


Refusal to Disengage

by anesor



Series: Star Wars Snippets [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Genre: Dark Obi-Wan Kenobi, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, No new Sith, Padme Lives, Reconcilitions, Slippery Slope, The Team goes underground, Torture, harsh deprogramming, healthy relationship getting less healthy, implied/referenced mental rape, unhealthy relationship improves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anesor/pseuds/anesor
Summary: Obi-Wan really really wanted Anakin to stop what he was doing and parroting, to talk, to go out for a beer. Do anything but force a fight with his heartbroken master.  This wasn't fighting the monster Maul to save Obi-Wan's beloved Master, it was fighting his beloved monster to savehispregnant wife.Cognitive dissonance and desperate combat do not mix.





	1. The One Who Leads and the One Who Follows

 

### \- Mustafar Volcano Pit

The air was thick with noxious magma fumes, and Obi-Wan blinked to try to clear his eyes. A fleeting memory about ‘trying,’ brought memories of a voice, faded into the Force and bitter humor as he regained his balance along the bank of the lava river.

Vader already scrambled to pursue him, as always.

That bitter humor faded away as another Master’s light rejoined the Force, a wise and kind elder, leaving the Force darker. The Dark side rose, light dimming as the tsunami arced overhead.

Grief and loss added to the soup of pain and anger, and he remembered the desperate fight in Theed against another Sith. Despair knifed into his heart as almost buried memories of loss and anger ripped him, new and raw again.

He had to finish the Sith in the burning, from the burning, it was his duty... it was his burden for all his errors.

But _this_ Sith was not a monster who was a stranger, Obi-Wan was attached to _this_ one, the conflict tearing at his soul... He burned, as he could not forget the dead younglings, the lost clone-warrior Brothers, and the sweet child erased by this Vader and his vile master. This time it was not his Master in final throes, but infants and friend who were dying as everything burned. Even the fair remnants of bright hair hidden by a open helm echoing the clones.

One last hope lingered and Obi-Wan pleaded for his opponent to disengage, even as the Sith raised his falsely-blue saber. “It’s over. I have the high ground.”

Vader shouted, his voice deeper like his wrath. “You underestimate my power!”

_Don’t, Don’t…_ “Don’t try it.” He had almost nothing left.

The boy flew through the air, spinning at the top of the arc as time slowed, like younglings’ targets…

There were no younglings...

There would be no more younglings...

Only twisted puppets who parroted lies and destroyed.

Force, he _hated_ Sidious...

He hated black Vader...

And he _hated_ the Dark as it choked down his throat and smothered everything better. A thousand years of democracy, the Order, his Duchess, his Master, the bright younglings, his Grandpadawan, earnest Senator and the children soon to be born, and the _brightest_ light- now gutted out…

He _had_ to…

He screamed into the Force, Darkness clawing at him even Vader tumbled back toward the hot ground.

He reached for Force, Light or Dark did not matter in his fury, and with its eager rush he smashed Vader down before he braced to attack. “You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them. It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not join into the Darkness.

Obi-Wan reached up his hand and clenched, focusing not on the fragile throat to trigger a primal fear of drowning. He crushed the pissant black helmet, hiding the young Sith’s face and shook him until he heard the helmet creak and crack and he felt the first so-satisfying touch of fear.

A light saber wavered in its thrown path at his head.

It dropped to the black sand with a wave, and Obi-Wan clipped both sabers to his belt with a small smile.

“ _I hate you!_ ” Anakin’s voice was muffled as he fought the hold.

The older man shook his head, fishing for Grievous’ binders in his belt. “What? Does not your **new** _great_ power, your _great empire_ set you free? Did your mother and your _wife_ teach you nothing about false faces? You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you, with a passion unbefitting a Jedi, while you think only of your own desires.”

The binder was quickly attached to a wrist and a foot and Vader howled and flailed in midair when he lost contact with the Force.

Obi-Wan looked at his prisoner with satisfaction and started to haul him back toward the ship. “Foolish boy! _You do not deserve_ your lover _or_ your children, to abandon them to chase power like a hungry rancor.”

Sighting the ship again, Obi-Wan saw that the droids had moved still-living Padmé back into her ship.

Obi-Wan dropped the contorting Sith trying to get loose on the black sand, the grainiest spot he could find. “Now, _apprentice_. You have been a great disappointment, haven’t you?”

He pushed on the enraged apprentice’s mind, blasting open their faded bond and sweeping away all other bonds, uncaring of the damage of these steps far, far beyond a simple mind trick.

Vader cringed. “Yes, Master. I... have been a great disa..appointment.”

“You have betrayed your wife for no reason.” Obi-Wan still pushed through the Force as he ran his fingers lightly along the Sith’s side. _Too much stimulation should overwhelm him..._

“I have betrayed Padmé for no reason.” Vader sagged, his voice flat.

The Master considered the young Sith. “You will obey me in all things, my apprentice. There will be _no_ second chance after this.

“I will obey you in all things, Master.” A thread of relief and calm ran through the Sith as he tried to face Obi-Wan despite the binding.

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes, aware of the deeper darkness all around and through him. He made a silent sigh, “Your first assignment is to consider what would Sidious would do or threaten to do if he had your family, and make _no sound_ as you consider it.”

“Yes, Master.”

He carried Va… Anakin into the ship and stuffed him into the compartment he arrived in. He locked it this time, and lifted off in a hurry on the course the clever Artoo set.

Obi-Wan wanted to collapse in the pilot seat next to the droid, but he could not afford to. He listened to the darkness, and it was still restless and hungry.

He heard nothing from the light and he wanted to weep.

Padmé lay in the alcove set apart for emergency aid, her throat dark and deeply bruised around the bacta patches.

She looked up and whispered with difficulty. “Obi-Wan? Is Anakin all right?”

The Master kept his eyes to only slits, he was sure they were corrupted after what he did to his apprentice. “He is locked up, but a judiciary to try him for all the youngling deaths seems quite unlikely, let alone the adults.”

Padmé looked away and asked, “Will my Ani ever come back to me?”

Obi-Wan ran his hand down his face. “No. The hero he was is gone. The dark path is difficult to resist once used, and he seized it with gusto. A few have been recovered, but those are only legend. I… maybe. He might again resemble my Padawan, _might_.”

“What now?” Padmé grieved as well, clutching a tiny amulet.

“I am taking _you_ to a medical facility, you need treatment for your injuries. Sidious _will_ hunt your children as Jedi as soon as he notices them, to corrupt or destroy. He will want none who _might_ threaten him.” Obi-Wan looked away in a fruitless attempt to smooth his anger.

“Obi-Wan? Are you well?” Padmé touched his arm.

“No, my dear, I am not.” He turned his face to her, to see the change in his eyes. His laugh was more a broken sob before he silenced it by twisting his head and jaw until it almost popped. “Even Dooku noticed, ‘Where Skywalker goes, Kenobi is sure to follow.’”

Her face crumpled with grief. “You seem unchanged, and you don’t _seem_ menacing.”

“ _I am dark._ I have never been tempted by power or prestige, Senator. But I am not immune to other temptations. I can barely feel anything of the Light now. I don’t know what the Council will do with me. Expel me, I am sure. Unlike Anakin, I have been a Jedi my entire life. I never really wanted anything else. They were my family, though even more die as we speak and _I cannot even bear witness_ _to their passing now_ _._ There is no one left to mourn the supposed ‘traitors.” Obi-Wan’s teeth appeared with his snarl.

Padmé rubbed her belly and the lights within, and Obi-Wan struggled with a crechling calming technique.

“I am sorry, Obi-Wan.”

“Thank you, my dear. I will continue to do what is necessary to protect my brother’s family, as long as I am able.”

Padmé’s face firmed. “I trust you, Master Kenobi, and thank you.”

“ **Patient should rest.”** The finest clinic droid was part of the alcove.

With a bow, Obi-Wan left for the galley to have some tea. He selected some sapir, realizing how much he would have disappointed his Master today.

The tea could not calm him, it tasted of sulfur and ash.

* * *

Slightly settled, Obi-Wan wanted to check on his unwilling apprentice, who was almost muted. Freeing the boy from Sith control would take time.

_Obi-Wan could not trust him._

The greatest flaw of the darkness was another pain that tore at his heart.

The compartment door opened and Anakin froze, facing the light source.

Obi-Wan allowed his voice to roughen with angry contempt, not a total act. “Apprentice?”

Anakin cringed. “Master?” Pieces of the helmet had been peeled away.

The Master would like to believe that held greater meaning. “Your analysis of Sidious?”

With an abortive swing of his free hand to touch his hair, Anakin muttered something. His face was still partly concealed by Vader’s helm.

Lifting the surly chin with the Force and kept forcing it upward, Obi-Wan spoke precisely. “Not this time, my _failed_ Padawan. You will speak clearly when you speak to me. I need not be kind now. Is this not what you wanted instead of the Order?”

Anakin whined when he reached the limit of how far he could arch his back. “No, Master. Yes. He.. he was angry at the Two Thousand when he was only Chancellor, even with Padmé. She will not be safe.”

Obi-Wan released the pressure and finished taking apart the fractured helmet. “Satisfactory, my Apprentice.”

Squinting, Anakin touched his matted hair. He started to speak, but stopped himself.

The Master tossed a water flask so Anakin could catch it with his free hand.

The boy drank about half before saying clearly, “Thank you, Master.”

Obi-Wan doubted they would ever be close enough to share feelings or thoughts again. The boy wanted...needed authority, perhaps harsh from his childhood.

He mourned that loss, trying to not shove that anger at Sidious. That was not what he wanted to be.

It was not.

He could not convince himself.

“Does Padmé live?” Anakin asked, looking at the deck.

Obi-Wan considered risks and those likely to be at the medical center. “Is not attempted murder the same as divorce on many worlds? Why should she trust you, especially with the children she must protect?”

Anakin’s pain was clear even with the binder’s restrictions, but his keening was silent.

“She is recovering from the injury and shock, and events seem not to have triggered early labor as yet. The clinic will know more. I have additional business that Vader is unworthy to be aware of.

Hope and grief cycled rapidly, and Anakin slumped. “Yes, Master.”

That servitude tickled a part that Obi-Wan would deny, but the jump ending chime rang. He did not want Anakin mobile as long as there were innocents nearby. “You may be released somewhat after she has been treated. I do, she does, not need any distraction of your misbehavior during that. _Am I clear?”_

Ducking his head, Anakin repeated. “Yes, Master.”

Obi-Wan hurried to the cockpit to see they were on final approach for a Polis Massa that was too quiet in the Force.

One life or two, and one was very strong in the Light. He wondered how dark he was, they were, without any confidence.

Artoo burbled with some satisfaction and a question.

“Thank you my little friend. I’m afraid Anakin has a broken motivator, essentially. He cannot tell friend from enemy right now, and we are short on mechanics.” Obi-Wan stopped speaking when the ship landed and hurried back to where Threepio was helping her stand.

“Master Kenobi, Miss Padmé has been reluctant to go to the clinic.”

“I believe I am fine.” Padmé would have been more convincing with an undamaged voice.

“Come, Senator. Friends await you, and your younglings are eager to meet you here.”

The happy smile was like a new dawn on her face, making Obi-Wan smile a little.

A little.

Bail and Yoda greeted the group from Mustafar, with the Senators moving quickly toward the clinic.

That left Obi-Wan with his Jedi Grandmaster. He could feel his own Stygian presence from his choices and actions, and he wondered at his and Anakin’s fates at the eldest Jedi’s hands.

Yoda looked up at Obi-Wan, his face without expression. “Come to kill me, you have?”

 


	2. Darkness and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan must face his Grandmaster after he has Fallen, but finds little support.

  


_ Bail and Yoda greeted the group from Mustafar, with the Senators moving toward quickly toward the clinic.  _

_ That left Obi-Wan with his Jedi Grandmaster. He could feel his own Stygian presence from his choices and actions, and he wondered at his and Anakin’s fates at the eldest Jedi’s hands. _

_ Yoda looked up at Obi-Wan, his face without expression. “Come to kill me, you have?” _

 

###    **-** **P** **olis Massa Medical Center**

“No, Master, I come to report and beg your advice.” Obi-Wan bowed and smiled sadly. “Though I _was_ tempted say ‘you old troll,’ but I would rather not be hit with your stick.”

“Glad am I that lost your humor you have not. Much you _have_ lost.”

“As have we all these last days, Master.” Kenobi sat on a crate, remembering the voids when friends and brothers passed from his senses… but he felt nothing now.

“Subdued Vader you have, not slayed him.” Cold, stone cold was Yoda’s voice.

Crossing his arms, Obi-Wan stiffened his tired back. “With all due respect, Master, I warned you that I could not kill my brother, my Padawan. Nor could I allow his freedom. What did you expect?” His voice grew darker in timbre. “I have done what I must.”

Yoda’s ears sagged. “Have you a new name?”

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyebrows. “ _No, I am Obi-Wan Kenobi_ and I am a Je… I am _responsible_ for my actions, for good or ill. I will not choose to hide behind another name.”

The old Master smiled a little. “Comforting that is.”

The younger Master hadn’t had the time understand let alone explain what he knew, not properly. “I _will_ teach my apprentice in a way he understands. He will remain my student until _**I decide**_ he is ready, not Masters who do not know him or politicians who have other goals. Their motivations will not matter _this_ time.”

“A dangerous path this is.”

Obi-Wan snorted, when he wanted to roll his eyes. “All paths are dangerous now, Master. I ripped out an almost cable-thick bond into Darkness, among others…”

“Cause great harm you would…!” The eldest Master warned.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, his glare scorching. “Don’t you think I know that? How much was already destroyed before he knelt? How much since then? There may have been harmless bonds entangled in that mass, but Sidious has no care how much of Anakin was already broken on the Sith path. Fast or slow, wife, innocents, Padawans or friends would all be destroyed by Vader. And thus destroy himself, too. Sweep the tainted ties away at _**all**_ costs as long as Vader rules him.”

A raised brow and faint voice showed disapproval. “Still attached are you.”

“So? _Some_ parts of the Code I will not miss. Anakin was the Chosen One as Master believed, but not the way he thought, not a messiah who would remove the power of the Dark side and prevent Xanatos’ Fall. He is a nexus, a symbol of what was wrong and what could get horribly worse. A healthy Code and Order would not have put so much stress on one boy. Save the apprentice, save the world.

“Much that is to think on.” Yoda sounded doubtful and shook his head.

“I have much to meditate on as well. Do I have your support in this, Master?”

“My support _you_ need not… Jedi are you not.” The deep frown aged Yoda.

Obi-Wan winced and started to breathe faster. “Your support we _need_ , Master. The Dark may dominate this path, but I will not let it win my apprentice or the Republic without a fight. Nor let it erase the Order. The Order is _needed._ I want to serve the Light, Master… I miss it like the air.” He wheezed as he sought calm again.

Yoda’s pause felt like an hour, the Force a swirling eddy around them. “Meditate with me.”

The younger Master slid to the floor and into the proper meditation pose with his eyes closed. “Thank you, Master.”

The turbulence smoothed only a little, calm spreading away from the elder. “Much anger you hold, like a miser.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes popped open, much more green than blue now, his expression bland. “I have sent so much of it into the Force since I saw their bodies in the temple. They could have been Ahsoka, or his own children, and he totally failed to see that forest for the Sith lies. My anger is only capped, an artesian well under pressure, Master. It keeps replenishing itself without attention or intention.”

“Explosions and firestorms result from that tarry darkness, young one. _Beware._ Caught in the flames you will find yourself.”

Obi-Wan sagged, head bent close to the floor. “He does not respect the power or effectiveness of the Light side. Contempt for Masters is fatal. I hope to lead him back, not leave him behind.”

“You must divest more darkness to reach for healing again.” Yoda thought a moment. “Meditate will I, to seek still older than the Republic methods. Forget not compassion while pursuing necessity.” 

Kenobi sat up again, with a flash in his eyes. “He must learn petty rivalry and power is worse than whatever oppression from the Order he believes he didn’t deserve. He has been convinced he deserves more. That will change _first._ ”

“More anger that is.”

“I regret that, Master. He was groomed, under our noses. Beyond him, the real war against the Sith has just begun. We must plan carefully.”

Yoda blinked and met Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Comfortable am I not, with the Dark Side so strong in you.”

He found it difficult to hear that. “My goals have changed little. My apprentice must learn a moral compass that he can sustain on his own. I had believed the difference between the Code and the Senator’s ideals were not enough to be a problem for his affair. My methods will be harsher this time. After that progresses will come efforts to disrupt and destroy Sidious’ works and restore democracy.” 

‘ _My empire’ will never cross the boy’s lips again._

“Go. Wearying is your darkness, Kenobi. An ally, the Force does not condemn in these dark days. Welcome it is not.” Yoda sagged and looked away in sorrow.

Obi-Wan reached out, but his hand dropped as he stepped back with a deep sigh.

When the hatch closed behind him, the former Jedi reoriented himself to find the medical bay.

Quietly strained, Bail sat beside the table while Padmé rested. Threepio was folding or refolding, a large pile of pads or wraps.

“Master Kenobi!” Bail greeted with a relieved smile. “I was worried when I learned you were sent for Skywalker.”

“He is my apprentice again.” This voice was very cold and very tired.

“Oh, no! He hated that awkward Padawan haircut.” Padmé smiled at the memory.

General Kenobi looked at her without blinking. “He is an apprentice, _not_ a Padawan. He _failed_ his oaths to the Order and the Republic _profound_ _ly,_ losing all rank. He would be disowned and imprisoned for his actions if the galaxy had not gone mad. Things and people he passionately believed were thrown by the wayside. I must treat it like brainwashing, but he is too powerful to leave free for the emperor to snatch up again. That bond is broken, but not the patterns of thought. Once we start, there can be no interruptions.”

“That sounds risky with a Sith, Master Kenobi,” Bail said.

Kenobi sat. “I am aware of that, Bail. But Palpatine had been allowed access since Anakin was nine. He had no belief in personal privilege before that.”

“Ani was so sweet until the war started.” Padmé was in a happy memory. “But he got _so angry_ , even threatening violence sometimes, at...” Her voice faded away as she realized who she was speaking to.

“At me, and or the High Council.” Obi-Wan’s smile held no humor. “I was holding him back. I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand war. I had no feelings. I supported the Council more than him. I would not keep his secrets. I did not trust his friend Palpatine. I didn’t trust him… most importantly I suppose, I didn’t love him.”

Padmé looked more lively as she objected. “I _never_ thought that, Master Kenobi! He always raced after you like he... too?”

“Your closeness was no secret, Obi-Wan. Even the media knew it.” Bail was amused. “Fortunes were made when a good image was captured of you two and sold. No other Jedi seemed as likable or approachable.”

“Many think you’re married,” Padmé smirked.

That stopped Obi-Wan’s thoughts. “Oh, my. Really?” But the Master’s face fell into grief. “Force bonds would probably appear closer than spouses, but I have no basis to compare. Maybe someday we can ask Anakin for a fair answer.”

“So you do not think anything can be done about the Empire in the short term? _Anything_ to depose the usurper?” The Senator from Alderaan sounded resentful.

Padmé touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Bail. You’re the only one the Emperor or his forces have not attacked. You are not marked as a threat and we will need that, like my working with the Gungans.” 

Obi-Wan’s smile was regretful. “Resources. He will have seized all the Order’s accounts he can find. There may be a few we can raid during the chaos, but later we might as well put up a sign with our existence and location if we tap them.”

“Of such accounts, I know. Served the Corps as well.” Yoda hobbled into the room quietly. “Pool such resources, we shall. Simple are my needs to preserve lore, beyond transport into exile.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes nearly boggled with disbelief at the abstention, though the Senators showed no reaction. Rubbing between his eyebrows, he thought of passing that on to Anakin.

He looked away, how much had his amusing stories enabled the boy’s disillusionment? More guilt filled his chest.

Initial plans discussion took hours, until Padmé hiccuped.

“Their time is here.” Yoda sounded satisfied, a deep completion as the medical droid began diagnosis.

The Force shrieked warning at Obi-Wan, a very bad feeling. It was _not_ anger or fear, just an urgent something. Something hopeful, maybe, and he had to act.

Obi-Wan spoke in a sotto voice. “Are you willing to let Anakin visit, Padmé?”

“Anakin?” Desperate hope and fear appeared on her face, and she reached to clutch at his ashy robes. Doubt returned as she winced. “If you think he’s safe enough around infants. He really wanted a baby and we were so happy.”

Obi-Wan patted her hand. “I will check to see if he can be trusted. Bail, comm me when it is close.”

Yoda’s eyes narrowed. “Infants need not Darkness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I could not resist the Heroes quote. Not sorry.


	3. Exit Strategies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin startled or fightened into submission will not hold. His Master will use the stick to get his attention, but it's Kenobi's stubbornness that will be tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: something like deprogramming, do not try this at home unless you are a Jedi... were a Jedi Master.

_Obi-Wan patted Padmé’s hands. “I will check to see if Anakin can be trusted. Bail, comm me when it is close.”_

_Yoda’s eyes narrowed. “Infants need not Darkness.”_

###  **-** **P** **olis Massa Medical Center**

Obi-Wan seemed not to notice what Yoda said, and moved back to the cargo hold where the locked compartment held Anakin, still in binders.

It was quiet, though the boy was still inside, and the Master sagged from exhaustion. He straightened his robes and appearance, and rubbed his eyes as he thought.

Feeling sad, he was almost glad that the boy would only be able to read body language and tone of voice. Sulfur-tainted cruelty could not be borne again. Anakin rarely cared to read people without using the Force, so the facade should hold.

He was sufficient an actor.

Obi-Wan raised the light level to its highest, enough to make him squint himself. Now it was time to make an impression on the Sith apprentice. And breaking the scripts in time for Padmé’s comfort.

Obi-Wan threw open the small door without fanfare, and Anakin cringed away, hiding his eyes.

Steeling his heart, Kenobi’s voice was harsh. “Get out of the compartment, Apprentice. A few things are past due.”

Anakin sidled out, using a mixture of crawling and rolling and taking a deeper breath outside of the close and stifling air of the small space. “Yes, Master?”

“Well now, Apprentice. I hope you have had time to consider all the ways you failed. You failed both your mother and Master Jinn, who both believed you would do great things. How would _she_ have viewed your actions in the Temple? She was reported to be extremely kind to strangers and other unfortunates, despite her limitations.” The Master paused a beat after breaking the ice of the young Sith’s denials.

“You failed the Order, that freed you, took you in and taught you, despite worry and misgivings among some of the Masters. They trusted their younglings with you. I suppose it was a _kind of success_ that you proved in such a final way that the minority were correct to disbelieve in your potential and _kindness_. That whose who weren’t sure or believed in you, were lethally wrong. I suppose you proved a negative, such an _accomplishment_ there, Vader.”

Bitter anger and sarcasm loaded in Kenobi’s words and looking down from his standing height, he could see the boy shake silently. He tapped his brow with his finger as if thinking. “You cared for your troops, angry they were nearly outright slaves, that only their self-chosen names showed they had free hearts. You respected _these brothers_ , you insisted often throughout long wartime years. _Then_ you personally led them into the furnace like a droid battalion after removing that tiny freedom and making them only numbered _slaves_ , Vader.

“You’re not much of a son, you’re not a Jedi, you’re no Vod… now what was that? Oh, yes. You are an _abject failure_ as a husband and father, aren’t you? Your wife, who loved you and kept your secrets, covering for you despite evidence past the end, begged your help, begged you to stay with her… And you accused her of betrayal and tried all too well to kill her. She had no defense, the infants had no defense, and you used your _great_ _imperial_ _power on them_. How is that not an utter failure for your family? I really do not see how much else you could fail at, Vader.”

The boy whined, almost silently as he shook and refused to look his Master in the eyes.

Kenobi smiled, his eyes shifting as planned the next attack. “Hmm, the old troll likes to say the future is always in motion. And you moved to pledge to the Sith, correct? What did they offer again? Great power and an empire? What was that getting you? A dead family? I suppose getting a scary name and pretty new battleship to lay waste to worlds like Kashyyyk is much more _desirable_ to a Sith. A fitting payment for your betrayals of all around you, Vader.”

“Sith get off on _desire_ , not on being happy or even content. That _is_ what you want, isn’t it, Vader? You must have _wanted_ to spit on your mother’s memory, to murder your Angel.” Kenobi loaded his voice with all the contempt he had for Vader and Sidious. _The boy had to see._

The strain was reaching a dissonant note in the boy’s presence as he shook his head, his eyes squinted shut and shoulders hunched in denial.

“ _I saw you_ go to your knees to make yourself a slave again, _Vader_. A slave who kills the helpless and trusting, on command, on whim. A slave who climbs to more power on the backs of nameless others. And you pretended for years that you _hated_ slavery and wanted to end it everywhere, Vader. A slave who would leave _his own children_ in that empire of slaves to seize _his own power..._ ”

“No! _No!_ _**NO!**_ ” Anakin spasmed and tried to straighten up, his eyes leaking. “I’m _not_ Vader! I’m not!  My name is Anakin and I am a person!”

Obi-Wan stepped next to Anakin, hushing him with a caress of his cheek for a moment.

Anakin leaned into it, still slowly shaking his head.

“Not quite, my Apprentice.” Obi-Wan said as he held tight, his heart aching as well. “You will remain like this, until you prove if you can be worthy of the trust you threw away. You will _choose_ arms or legs that will stay in binders.”

“No Force?” Anakin’s voice was watery.

“What would _you_ have said if Dooku was defeated?”

His mouth opened and closed without speaking for a moment. “ _Arms,_ ” Anakin said bitterly. “Can I use the Fresher, Master?”

If Obi-Wan allowed a brief gap before the flesh wrist was cuffed, neither of them commented. Once they were cleaned up, they both sat on a bench leaning against each other to rest, though Kenobi was more alert than he appeared.

His comm went off and Bail spoke only two words. “Now, Kenobi.”

“Will you behave if you leave the hold, my Apprentice?”

“Is this a test?” Anakin asked, his eyes wet as he stared at the cuffed hands in his lap.

Obi-Wan smiled sadly. “Your entire life is a test, Anakin. Usually no one tells you when it is coming or when you have failed. Padmé wants you to be with present for this. Will you be worthy of her mercy?”

“Please, Master. I.. love her.”

“Remember that better. Come along, now.” Obi-Wan stood and herded the hesitant and reeking of guilt youth toward the clinic. His own anger was a hot ember.

The bay had shifted in preparation while Kenobi was gone. Bail was beside his friend and almost comfortable with the situation before they arrived. Padmé was sweaty and worn, looking at her husband with a mixture of need and too much fear.

Anakin halted and cringed just inside the doorway. His eyes stared at her, mute of self.

Yoda observed from a corner, serene in his disapproval. “Infants need _not_ the darkness you bring.”

Obi-Wan glared at him for an instant, and then led Anakin closer. Kenobi bowed deeply and the cuffed Anakin copied him.

Another contraction came and Anakin’s breathing grew ragged as he watched with fear as long as it lasted.

Afterwards, Padmé looked at him with doubt, tilting her head and blinking. Her voice was rough when she said, “I don’t think I know you anymore. But you may stay until we are done.”

Anakin dropped to his knees beside the couch, slipping his flesh hand into hers. “I’m sorry, Padmé. I was wrong; sorry, sorry, sorry.”

Another contraction came and Anakin winced as Padmé’s grip clamped his hand.

Obi-Wan observed their interaction, brushing his bearded chin with his thumb. He noted that both Bail and the droid medic seemed calm and not pretending. Then he turned toward his clearly critical Grandmaster. “The bindings should be sufficient, Master.”

“With darkness you flood this room, of torture and enjoyment in cruelty. Forever taint the younglings, darkness will.”

Obi-Wan set his jaw, though his anger flared. “Take this outside, perhaps we should, hmm?”

Eyes narrowing at the mockery, Yoda moved to the hall as he watched the former Jedi Master.

With the clinic door sliding shut, Obi-Wan turned and crossed his arms to glare at the Jedi Master.

“Angry at me are you?” A wisp of grainy smugness was not quite hidden enough.

“Why yes, I am. I will dispense with _my opinion_ of the reasons for your judgment failures right now. But do not mistake me, your hanging on every action made by my apprentice like some scavenger eager to condemn every little mistake for the last decade, was not healthy for anyone. We need hope to fight this empire, from the small battlefields of one man’s soul to the battlefields to come. You warp the Force around us with your fear and distrust. You should have better emotional control, _Master_ Yoda!” Kenobi’s teeth were bared in a snarl.

“To murder again, you set a Sith into freedom!” Yoda’s eyes hardened and stance tensed

Obi-Wan lowered his voice and stared at Yoda. “This is no freedom. This is what is left after I broke him for his family. He denied the Sith, denied that he is Vader. His wife deserves whatever comfort his company can bring right now. _She is not a Sith._ She does not deserve punishment. Remember that she _can_ embrace a passionate life.”

Yoda thumped the floor. “She betrayed her _responsibilities!_ ”

“Padmé is young and in love. Regardless of who she loves, she has been a firm ally of the Order and strong believer in the Republic. Would that those beliefs had been better fostered in her husband.” Obi-Wan paused.

“How can anything that is not Dark be fostered, hmm? It pools around you, growing deeper. To you in the darkness you bound him, without consent of any kind.” Yoda’s voice grew louder with his disapproval. “ _To a Sith you bound yourself even deeper._ ”

Kenobi waved a hand in dismissal. “I have always been bound, first as Qui-Gon asked it of me. I cannot murder him as you wish, it would be like suicide, killing myself. That leaves healing or nothing, and I will not leave him like this.”

Yoda stepped closer to glare at Kenobi. “I cannot of what you did approve. Known peace within the force, he would. Willing for it to be his time to pass, you were not! Better would it be! Better if you had not Fallen, Obi-Wan!” The old Jedi Master’s voice fell. “Better to not lose _another_ into Darkness.

That stopped Obi-Wan, thinking of Anakin, and Dooku, and Xanatos, and himself. Almost an entire lineage in a blink of an eye to Yoda. He put his hand on his Grandmaster’s shoulder and projected calm. He could not be sure how it was perceived.

But he did not want to make his Grandmaster lose all hope.

“Why are you so sure I will continue to darken, Master? I have no interest in Sith machinations beyond ending them. I want to serve the Force, protect the Republic and Order. I want to heal my Padawan of the taint and find the generous and kind boy he was when he arrived. Yes I am attached, and yes, I have had to discipline him harshly, but you cannot tell me that other Masters have been just as harsh for their own good. Why can you not believe I might resist falling further, or maybe return?” Obi-Wan looked to the clinic and took a deep breath. “I came for help almost immediately, Master. Why do you keep... rejecting me? I think those in shadow need hope even more.”

“ _ **No path**_ back there is, despite any good intentions.”

Obi-Wan frowned at that weak and emotional tone. “Is this about Dooku!? That you lost your last Padawan to the Sith!? That you cannot accept that I do not want to be like him. That I do not want to lose my Padawan too. That he doesn’t have to break and end like Dooku, a cruel lunatic who kept spouting that he would raze the republic to fix it. You say the future is always in motion, but falling is like a funnel without different paths?” The Darksider took a breath and calmed. “I am sorry you believe that, but there is nothing in the Code against hope. And I choose future motion toward hope and the light, even if I stumble sometimes.

“Now, do not speak to my apprentice again without _**my**_ permission. Your methods failed the Padawan, I will not use what the Force does not approve for my Apprentice. Go away if you cannot be kind. Younglings do not need disapproval, either.” Kenobi turned with a snap to enter the clinic.

Bail and Anakin looked at him with an awkward alarm, though they did not speak.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly a valentine's chapter...


	4. Bilocations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More frictions among the Jedi and former, while the Senators are more pragmatic. (The babies are planning to wrap everyone around their little fingers later)

“ _Now, do not speak to my apprentice again without_ _ **my**_ _permission. Your methods failed the Padawan, I will not use what the Force does not approve for my Apprentice. Go away if you cannot be kind. Younglings do not need disapproval, either.” Kenobi turned with a snap to enter the clinic._

_Bail and Anakin looked at him with an awkward alarm, though they did not speak._

### \- Polis Massa Medical Center

Obi-Wan huffed a dry laugh. “Was that a bit louder than I realized?”

“Perhaps,” Padmé whispered with a strained chuckle. “But your words are a harsh comfort.”

A faint smile crossed Obi-Wan’s face and he bowed to them. “I am sorry, Senators, all I can offer is harsh truths and faint comforts today. These children will have to be our hope, that even Dark tides will turn. This is only a stopover before we scatter.”

Anakin looked desperately curious and scared for instants, then looked at Kenobi without speaking. He crooned a little to Padmé when she gripped him with another pain.

Bail moved back a little to stand beside Kenobi and covertly look at him.

Obi-Wan did not turn his eyes away from the parents, especially the Apprentice. “Bail?”

“I’m not quite sure what you not being a Jedi anymore means, Kenobi. I don’t know much about anyone who left, outside a few like Dooku. And he was...”

“ _Not_ an example I will copy.” The former Jedi spoke in a flat voice. “Jedi have left the Order, and many settle into whatever life called them away and live quietly. Only some of the Lost Twenty Fell like Dooku. I thought Anakin to leave when the war was over and expected a discussion about that for some time. I have hopes that some of those who departed would become willing to serve again, if I can find them.”

“Serve what, hmm?” Master Yoda demanded in a quiet voice as he entered.

Obi-Wan’s smile was bland. “Serve the Force. Serve the Republic, in exile for now. Rebuild the Order.”

The elder Jedi shook his head and looked at Padmé. “Train the chosen, _will I_ when the time is right. Have patience, we must. No delegated training this time will there be..”

The finality was clear to everyone in the room, but none could speak for a moment. Anakin gawked while massaging a focused Padmé. Bail looked doubtful and disappointed.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed and he took a deep breath. “So your plan is to wait at least a generation under a Sith empire, with the immense pressure on a new Chosen one?” He bit off more more words, visibly.

“Grow from a _clean_ foundation, the Order must. Yeesssssss.” The small glare at Kenobi was clear.

That made Kenobi’s head rock back and he strengthened his shields again to conceal his true thoughts. “Very well, Master Yoda. More immediate plans will be needed for Organa and the children. I trust you will contact us when you feel the time is right?”

“Await the Chosen one I will.” Yoda nodded and moved toward the hanger.

“Ani!” Padmé sounded more urgent.

“I’m here, Angel. You’ll be fine.” Anakin looked at the medical droid with worried eyes and winced as Padmé dug into his flesh arm with her fingernails through the droid’s instructions.

Bail looked confused. “He didn’t say where he’s going?”

“He will not tell you anything with us nearby. I had hoped… well, that does not matter now.” Obi-Wan’s face was full of sorrow as he felt the Grandmaster leave. “You have probably witnessed a first since the last Sith war, a schism. I may not fully trust my own judgment, but the Force is nearly shouting that waiting that long will not be good for what remains of the Republic… nor the Order.”

Bail looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure my place is here for this.”

Obi-Wan looked at him. “I am sorry, my friend, but I must ask for your assistance. I must remain to watch and ensure Vader does not return during this stress. Your stunner is safer in your hands if I tire.”

The Senator nodded and started to leave. “I will find some food and water for everyon...” A bleat from the droid interrupted this offer, and Bail left Kenobi standing vigil in a half meditation.

* * *

Of the group, Padmé was the _most_ exhausted after Leia was born. Skywalker’s face had smoothed with happiness as he held his healthy children despite the Force cuffs. Padmé sometimes returned to wary of Anakin as she tried to stay awake.

Bail watched the almost corpse-like Kenobi almost as much as the tired family. With a deep breath, the Senator from Alderaan suggested, “We should get some rest before we leave.”

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes. “Four hours and then we meet. We depart in eight. First _we_ have work to do, so the Senators can rest now.”

“Work?” Bail asked. “When was the last time you slept, Obi-Wan?”

“ _I am fine._ We don’t know if we’re down to a single ship, and I feel it wiser to gather whatever supplies we can and prepare for departure before resting.”

Skywalker almost spoke, but he looked down at his cuffs and his jaw set with resentment.

Padmé’s voice was firmer as her eyes kept drifting shut. “Thank you, Obi-Wan, for their lives and my own.”

Kenobi’s smile reached his green eyes. “It was my pleasure, Padmé. Come, Apprentice, we have much to do before we sleep.”

“Right...” The tone was not just sarcastic, but flowing with corrosive resentment.

Before they had more than crossed the entrance of the hanger, Obi-Wan pinned Anakin against the wall with his arm across Anakin’s throat, his eyes a bright spring green of irritation. “ _You will cease this attitude,_ Apprentice. When I announce our activity, you would do much better to consider why. You _used_ to be a General of the Grand Army, but now I doubt you could beat an Init iate at Dejarik, you show so little interest in planning.”

Anakin snarled back. “Why should I bother? I’m chained to the man who ripped out my mind? A slave to the idiot who  _wants to be a Jedi?_ ” The sing-song was mocking.

“You want more choices and autonomy? You won’t have much of _that_ until I believe you can handle it better than the last time. You’re _still younger_ than when I was promoted to Knight, and you thought you _deserved_ to be a Master. I’m your _Master_ , and I do not _have_ to explain **anything** to a foolish boy. Prove you aren’t a fool.” Kenobi shook him like a terrier and dropped the apprentice to the floor. “If the situation allows it, you may privately ask questions.”

Anakin bent his head. “Yes, Master.”

Kenobi stepped back and stared.

And stared at his apprentice with a critical gaze.

After some time, Anakin shifted around without meeting his Master’s eyes. Finally he asked, “What are we doing?”

“We are going to strip this station of most anything useful and sellable. Half will be for Padmé and the twins wherever they go into hiding. We will check on them between other tasks. Our presence will draw the Empire’s attention, and they _must_ be kept safe.” Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead and clearly drew on the Force. “If we are efficient, we may have time to sleep briefly.”

The apprentice’s face brightened and he looked around the bay as he stepped away. “Where’s Artoo? He can collect the inventories?”

“Come here, Apprentice.” Obi-Wan’s voice was flat.

Anakin came back though he was distracted by the signs of disorder in the equipment storage spaces.

“Your hands please.”

That got the younger man’s attention. He lifted his arms with only a pause.

“ _All of this_ is to make the galaxy safer for Leia and Luke. So _they_ won’t be the ones waiting in a safe place when a Sith comes for them with a lit blade, seeking power.” Obi-Wan paused for the wince. “So _they_ will not have to live in fear. So _they_ will not be manipulated into attacking their family. Think carefully, what kind of parent do you want to be?”

The cuffs dropped to the floor, and Anakin rubbed his wrist quietly in a louder universe. “Like my mother.”

“Excellent choice, my Padawan.” Obi-Wan hugged Anakin. His newly revealed emotions were immense grief, anger, resolution, and a trace of joy, floating on an ocean of affection.

Anakin took almost too deep a breath and returned the embrace, sinking into those depths.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may seem soon, but Obi-Wan is already working on plans for his fractured apprentice... [E]


	5. Scatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they are a group of six, splitting resouces and going to ground for a while triggers other issues. Number one is an Apprentice wedded more to impulse and gut reactions. Too much depends on planning and paranoia at this point.

_Obi-Wan hugged Anakin. His newly revealed emotions were immense grief, anger, resolution, and a trace of joy, floating on an ocean of affection._

_Anakin took almost too deep a breath and returned the embrace, sinking into those depths._

###  **-** **P** **olis Massa Medical Center**

Hours later, Obi-Wan’s comm reminded him it was time to wake the Senators. He wasn’t pleased to wake Padmé, but they were not safe there. This was a relative backwater as the false war wound down, but imperial control would spread quickly.

Half of Anakin’s body was concealed as he did some needed maintenance on their only ship with liberated parts.

“It is time to wake them for planning. I expect she will want a nap before departure. _We_ will sleep in Jump.”

“Some of these parts are worth a lot in shadow markets, Master. I had one slush account from funds I used on some missions. I wanted to get another _Twilight_ , so... I, uh, never got around to telling the Council.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow. “Does Sidious know?”

The Apprentice flushed. “I don’t think so. Ahsoka helped with setting it up, but she hasn’t touched it.”

“That might be useful. I have a few small accounts with local money on various worlds as well. I believe a short visit to a banking capital may allow me to drain Council funds as well. We have only a short span for this, so your family must be safe first.”

Fear swept through the hanger and a slap in the Force hit the younger man so he took an involuntary step.

“ _ **Close down those shields!**_ You have far _**more**_ that must now be concealed _perfectly_ , if you cannot control your feelings. Shielding the twins will be needed too, they must appear _uninteresting_ _until they are settled_. Come along, Apprentice.”

Bail was asleep on a padded waiting couch in another room when he was woken. Padmé was already awake with a tired expression as she fed a baby.

Anakin’s grin was more than a little gooey, if Obi-Wan had to pick a word. It was clear that Anakin should have spent more time in the creche instead of sleeping in.

The medical droid gave up the other twin into Anakin’s eager hands.

Obi-Wan prepared some tea out in the galley, and then watched the family with eyes half-lidded as he awaited Organa.

“Obi-Wan! Isn’t she beautiful? She even has Padmé’s _glare_ already. Just look at them!” Anakin smiled so widely, it was harder to remember his darkness just yesterday.

Padmé glared at him as Luke fed. “Don’t forget Luke, Anakin. You are _not_ to play favorites.”

The Master considered intervening, but moved over to determine the medical droid’s mobility and if they could take it with them.

“It seems Master Yoda took my ship, Master Kenobi.” Bail seemed bemused when he entered and saw the tea service ready.

Obi-Wan said, “It would plausibly be yours after we find another. Or we could return you home, where any lost time could be covered. We have too many places to visit in the next weeks.”

“We start work to disrupt this ‘Empire,’ when he thinks he has control. We need allies, allies he is not aware of. He knows the resources we had last month.” Padmé's jaw was set and she was glaring at nothing. “He will consolidate like Dooku did when he became leader and my kinder friends from those worlds disappeared. I don’t know how he will present himself as emperor, but not like a kindly uncle.”

“Not at all kindly, with how he ordered the mutual destruction of the Jedi and Vod’e. That much death bled into the Force, twisting people in the greater area into those emotions. I barely held any calm after I saw bodies, in almost drifts along the Temple halls. Master Yoda waited there until I arrived, and he knew everyone by name...” Obi-Wan shook his head at the strain, his face pale and empty of emotion.

His apprentice hunched and looked at the floor.

“We should show this abuse, children, medics, the services! As it begins, so it will continue. Record these acts for those who were safer, to see what this will mean to them in time,” Bail said.

Obi-Wan cut that off with a hand wave. “That is the devil’s bargain, Bail. Any records of the Temple slaughter will hurt us more in the early stages of this war than Sidious. They show one of the great Generals of the war, a seeming Jedi, leading a winning battle against yet more armed and dangerous traitors to the Republic, and his own people, to make the Republic safe. Oh, maybe if we can get a closely sliced version, but Sidious knows who would have been edited out. Does anyone doubt he could easily counter an edited version? The truth will be more effective once the lines of empire and rebellion are clearer in an endgame. He will prove his own cruelty by his actions.”

Padmé looked at her husband, who was far quieter and emoting shame that was so clear to her. More shame than he’d shown after Tatooine. She did not like any kind of cover up, but she had no cleaner answer either time. She hated that the sweet man could do this... twice.

Anakin was _not_ the man she fell in love with and she did not _trust_ him in her and her children’s future. He could visit, with supervision, but she wanted his rage away from them. Forgiveness was much harder when it wasn’t just her own life affected.

Bail’s face grew harder. “If Vader _returns_ to the Empire it should be released in its entirety. No one else survived that massacre to be hurt.”

“Agreed,” Obi-Wan said coldly as he looked at his apprentice. “Sidious made pawns of us all. I reject that placement, and so will many others. First we preserve what we can, and then build anew.”

“I think I _need_ to see Breha, my friends. I have not contacted her since the Clones attacked and I would rather not reveal anything by accident.” Bail looked thoughtful. “A quick drop at a busy port or Alderaan would be fine. I have other ships available at home.”

“We depart in an hour then.” Obi-Wan rubbed his chin. “Anakin, see if you can modify this medical droid to be able to leave and look less valuable. Leave the others. Senators, we will get you transferred to the ship and you can rest into Jump.”

Later, Obi-Wan sat back in the copilot’s seat as they entered hyperspace with Artoo monitoring. “Short list, Apprentice. Get Bail to safety. Get Padmé and the twins to safety, with those who can be trusted. Siphon accounts, some into new ones if safe. Rebuild ourselves in isolation, which _must_ be delayed. After that, quietly seek surviving Jedi and Vod. Any additions or objections?”

“She’s afraid of me.” That was a sob.

A pause came from the tired Master. He wanted to fall back into the old habit of comfort, but shook his head and hardened his voice. “ _Of course,_ she’s afraid of you! In your anger you nearly killed her and her children. _She let you stay_ , a great mercy. At least she’s willing for you to spend time with Leia and Luke. Count that as a blessing from the Force.” _-you idiot-_

Anakin winced. “I- I want to fix it, Master.”

“I don’t know if a betrayal that great _can_ be forgiven.” Obi-Wan snapped his eyes wider open with a jerk. “It will take far, far longer to re-earn what was destroyed so quickly. The brightness of the twins will be far more healing than your company, so steeped in deaths.”

“I won’t be with them.” Anakin’s grief was palpable in his voice. His presence was muted.

There was nothing to add to that. Obi-Wan said, “We have a few days to Alderaan. Sleep and then meditation.”

Anakin made a face, but didn’t speak.

Kenobi smiled slightly as he set a reminder and forced his apprentice into quiet. _Sleep._

After they’d woken, they settled into meditation seats, facing each other in the hall, with cargo overflowing from the hold filling most empty space. But the Force swirled darkly around them. Both were tense.

“You’re not any _further_ in than I am, Master. This _never_ worked before for me. I can work on improving the shields and get calmer.”

Obi-Wan opened an eye. “This is not just about meditation, Apprentice. This is about discipline. This is about obedience. This is about serenity that even Initiates can reach. This will start every day for you until it is a well worn path.”

Anakin frowned mulishly. “I connect to the Force fine without it.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan’s voice was mocking. “Have you been able to heal any of your strains from our fight? Have you been able to connect with the sunny happiness of your son? Or are you stuck eavesdropping on his happiness? Are you that certain that Ahsoka would not turn away if she felt you now?”

“She’s _seen_ me angry. She was on Mortis.”

“ _ **Forget denial, Apprentice**_.” The Master grabbed him at the collar to get face to face to speak intensely without shouting. “She grew up in _the creche._ She recently enough spent time with friends awaiting their trials. She respected the creche masters. She was very close to Plo and the Vod you led to their deaths against desperate Jedi defenders. They were her family, too.”

“She’ll hate me. Padmé fears me. I can’t be with my children. You hate me. I’ve lost everything.” Anakin started to struggle to push away in despair. His eyes flowing.

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on the tunic and pulled from the Force to smother Anakin’s growing agitation and force stillness on him. When he had, he saw that the boy was limp and listless, and he’d stopped fighting. “I never hated you before, that hatred clawed in deep from your actions. My affection is drowning in that darkness, but it remains.” _-very bright at the core-_

Letting go, Kenobi sagged after that, even with using the Dark. Fingers shaking, he ran them over his apprentice’s hair. “I will not give up on you, apprentice, not until you are the strong knight Master Jinn promised you could be. But meditation is only a start, and it will be harder this time, for both of us.”

Anakin rested his head on his knees, hugging himself. “I _never_ felt so alone before, Master. I can’t really feel anything in the Force. I’m not even wearing the damn cuffs now. Just a stray something from you and nothing clear.”

Obi-Wan thinned the shield on their bond a little, and felt Anakin take a deeper breath. “I don’t feel much now, either. We stepped into the Dark and can’t feel Jedi fugitives through that. There probably aren’t enough Jedi for their presence to make a background of light and serenity. I don’t know what our presence makes now.”

“I feel quieter after you...” Anakin waved and appeared to reach a light meditation after a few more minutes.

Obi-Wan only touched the edges of calm briefly, not long enough. He was relieved his apprentice was improving, but envy had green claws.

Time with the children kept the mood lighter for the adults in Jump. Anakin absented himself as they talked politics and contact protocols. Once Bail was left off the ‘smuggler’ ship, Obi-Wan set the coordinates for their next destination.

“We can’t be going _there!_ ” Anakin shouted, fists shaking beside him as Darkness swirled and crashed around him.

Obi-Wan expected this. His physical backhand surprised the Apprentice into a stumble against a counter and a bloody lip. “Apprentice. _You_ do not make _demands._ I went over the terms before.”

Anger warred with shock as Anakin wiped his lip. After several slow breaths he dropped to his knees with has arms braced and head bent. “I apologize, Master. I would like to know why.”

A growing part of the Master enjoyed this, but he stepped to pull Anakin up again. “Kneeling is not necessarily respect, Apprentice. The respect far outweighs that trapping. You have two choices, one only slightly easier. Be respectful to everyone until they’ve proved they don’t deserve it. Masters have earned at least the trappings of respect.

“The other choice is to conceal your emotions so even an enemy doesn’t know what you’re feeling.” He traced Anakin’s damp cheek. “I mentioned my thinking earlier. They would be safer with family around them, but I wasn’t meaning you. I meant your family. They already know Padmé and you. Sidious knows how much you _hate_ the planet, yes? They are far from the Core. And as much as we loathe the Hutts, they are powerful and rich enough to retain their power under an empire. Nor will they allow an imperial port control any more than they would have a republic one. As bad as it is, little will change.”

Skywalker’s eyes were glossy with tears. “But, Master. I don’t want slavery to touch them at all. I’ll do _anything..._ ”

The Master’s smile was calculated and knowing as he gripped the apprentice’s jaw like a vise. “Really, anything?” Then he licked his lips.

Anakin shuddered and looked away. “Yeah.”

After a long tense moment, Obi-Wan flicked Anakin’s forehead with a finger.

The boy looked back, his eyes huge.

Obi-Wan stepped back. “Listen to what what _you just said_ , what you were willing to do. _Again!_ Jumping into that kind of bargain was how you got into _this_ mess. You made a desperate tactical decision without any kind of strategy. A tactic that left you and your loved ones in a worse situation. _Padmé_ is your co-Commander of your family, for all you knew she had a specialist all ready for their birth, for all you know she has a distant cousin who owns a Cantina on Tatooine. Think, plan, and communicate.”

“Does she?” Anakin took a deep and relieved sigh.

“I don’t know, but that would be a decent cover for a mother from off planet. I don’t have any other ideas, but your family would have better news and prices.”

Anakin set his jaw. “We can set up her staff, right?”

“First we meet your family and see what they think. They may have better ideas for all of us. Padmé must be part of this, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, between post Olympics and winter blues neither writing or reading held my attention. Now everybody laugh at the story I thought would be a one or two-shot! I'll be happy if I can finish in a dpzen now.


	6. Landfall in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making cover identities that really, really could not be mistaken as Jedi, is not pleasant.

“ _First we meet your family and see what they think. They may have better ideas for all of us. Padmé must be part of this, too,” Master Obi-Wan warned._

### \- Jump for Tatooine

Names became a puzzle before they left Jump. A slave would have been simplest to explain the power dynamic between Obi-Wan and Anakin, but he was reluctant to say that even as a cover. After stewing through his next attempted meditation, he spoke to the boy in the cockpit. “As captain and crew, we need names for ourselves and reasonable background for the Rim. Whatever we choose, must work here, as this will be our home port for the foreseeable future. We are linked, so what would work in the Rim to reflect that?”

“’M close enough to slavery,” Anakin muttered without looking up. “No one _here_ would question anything you did to me or any shady acts. _No one_ would ever think you were a fugitive Jedi, either.”

Obi-Wan touched his arm. “Dear one, there was a reason I never wanted you to take those roles on missions. It left so many scars on you that still have not healed completely. What else?”

“ _You don’t get it_ , _Master!”_ Anakin hit the armrest with his fist. “Out here, there aren’t many bonds that people can stake their lives on. ‘Brotherhood’ can turn on a hand of cards or a bigger bribe. People are loyal to themselves first and their family, if they are lucky enough to have one. It’s always about the power: power of the Hutts, power of the Council, power of Sidious… That’s the way its always been.” Anakin’s eyes were bleak.

That made Kenobi blanch with an unvoiced cry, to understand the chasm within his apprentice. “But I wanted the best for you, the best in you. Didn’t that mean anything?”

“Not against power, Obi-Wan. I almost thought I’d escaped it all when I left Tatooine. I was a General. The… troops and the Holonet loved me. I married an angel. I found a sister. I was going to be a father. But _all_ that was disappearing from Sidious’ actions. Maybe I could keep _some_ if I sucked up to him.” Anakin sighed shakily.

Obi-Wan lunged across to hold him tight. “You always had my support, Padawan. No matter what you might have thought. That isn’t about power at all, just about your contentment and happiness, whether you’d stayed a Jedi or moved to Naboo.”

Anakin’s voice was muffled against Kenobi. “I kriffed that up. I really don’t… I just don’t trust myself to do the right things for Padmé, Leia, and Luke. You have, and I’d rather pledge myself to you as a slave than become what my angel fears. I can’t be punished enough for what I did. _Tell me what to do._ ”

Running fingers over the younger man’s hair, Obi-Wan fought relief and a darker satisfaction at the boy’s words. He allowed a chuckle. “Here I suspected you’d want a familial tie like uncle or father.”

That laugh sounded more like a bark of surprise. Anakin looked up. “Yeah, I would have said that a month ago. But here, here loyalty comes from power and fear.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes drooped, gray and dull. “Do you fear me, Anakin?”

“No! Not ever! I never thought you’d really hurt me, even on Mustafar. I thought you’d give way… I guess I never thought what came after that.” He looked down. “I want my Mom and Padmé to be proud of me.”

The Master thought. “If you think that will work better as a cover and you can handle it, we will. We still need names and whatever props or items will make it more plausible… and maybe we can still use a familial cover in free ports?”

Anakin smiled, but then looked grim. “Sure, I’ll make a transmitter without any explosives to put in. That sells the identification as much as shackles, without restricting me.”

Obi Wan waved him away to the workbench tucked near the engineering space. Then he started writing jackets for someone walking the edges of the war, a weapons runner, down on his luck now that the Separatists were out of the game and bosses all dead. Anakin was... acquired during the war. They’d need to get different physical characteristics too, and some blasters. And a way to conceal their sabers.

He dreaded the day his saber would begin to bleed.

“Zalder?”

Obi-Wan looked up from his weaving bits of real skills and places into plausible bios. “What?”

“Nuko Zalder. I’d be Bril, Bril Zalder sometimes, maybe like a stepson? I didn’t get on too well with Cliegg the first time we met. He might have wanted to hit me, so we can use the same story anywhere.”

Rubbing his forehead didn’t help. “I’m missing part of this. If I sold my son, why would I have you still?”

“Oh, yeah. Umm- you bought me so I could pay for treatment for Mom in the Core a year or so ago, but it didn’t work. You’re not too bad, and I can see the stars. I can live with that.”

Closing his eyes again, the Force gave no warning against the plan.

Not that the Force had given many warnings of late. Did it not want him to listen? It was so quiet outside Anakin’s turbulence. He truly regretted that there was no Master he could consult, even if only to warn of useless approaches. Vos had recovered from his brush with the dark, but Obi-Wan never knew _how_ it happened. Yoda either denied or was ignorant of those events.

_Ignorance, yet knowledge._

“We should not keep Padmé’s name for the ship. What do you think of _Triple Bolan_?”

Anakin made a face. “I liked _Twilight_. _Raving Culls_? _Favor_ _ite_ _Culls_? _Rancor Culls_?”

“Why culls, Apprentice?”

“We’re not really _anything_ , Master. We’re not Sith, I can kinda get why you won’t. But Yoda doesn’t want _even you_ back, and you were a brilliant Jedi. Culled sounds like a more violent rejection than exile.”

Obi-Wan thought. “I don’t think so, Anakin, that carries the weight of us being worthless and condemned. We were competent generals and Jedi and still have worth outside the Order. Words have power, terming ourselves as failures will reinforce our mistakes. Fett named his ship. _Slave_. Did that make him less so, or more?”

“Does _Triple Bolan_ mean something?”

“Not that I know of, I was seeking something short without any telltale connotations. If we choose anything with meaning, we might as well have target scopes pointed at us.”

* * *

No one in this lesser city thought twice about their doctored paperwork when they landed in Bestine days later. It was not as if the former queen would send bounty hunters to reclaim the ship from herself. There was another ship in port that felt recently stolen to Anakin.

Obi-Wan set about establishing his new identity and queried the market net about cargoes that needed freighting to Core worlds. Anything that would take them to Cato Neimoidia or Scipio, but available cargoes were slim. And usually mobile.

It would go far to establishing Nuko Zalder, but he felt a visceral rejection of that much, even now.

He should treasure that.

He placed a bid on a sorry lot and arranged payment when it was instantly accepted. Then closed his emotions down again. Convincing his apprentice would be as painful as the Hardeen incident.

“Master Kenobi?” Padmé called from her cabin and Anakin looked up from his landing checklist.

“Come, boy. We don’t have a lot of time in this port, as much a haven of scum as it is.”

At least the younglings were asleep, this talk would not be pleasant. He hardened his voice, making it more harsh when she came into the cargo bay. “Desili, must I remind you that those names are _gone_ , swept away, not to be spoken again until much later in our path. I am Captain Zalder, and I only provided a widow passage and protection to relative safety because I was well paid.”

Anakin twitched, but didn’t speak.

Padmé’s smile only faded a little. “Yes, Captain. I know the plan. A Cantina would allow me to keep in touch with larger events, though I hope the Lars can help for a while.”

“Boy, see if you can get supplies in the market, vest for yourself, something gray for me, and any accessories we will need for our new roles.” His voice was biting.

Anakin rubbed the new scar on his collarbone that looked older, with a grimace. “Yes, Master.”

After he had left, Padmé looked at him in alarm. “I’m still angry with him, but...”

Obi-Wan rubbed his hand down his newly shorn face. “I overlooked too much before, and we must build a reputation as far as possible from being a Jedi. He must learn discipline and its value before self-discipline is automatic. He must learn to manage his emotions. Remember that, no matter what happens.”

Her nod showed her unhappiness as she checked supply lists for their household.

Obi-Wan simply waited. Local clothing was an immediate need and it wouldn’t take long.

Anakin returned and shook nearly imaginary sand out of his hair, before tossing his packages as he hurried away for water.

The Force told him his pieces were almost in place for maximum effect as he changed clothes and looked at the whip, its cruel purpose looming in the Dark. “Desili, you should get inside with the twins, there will be a confrontation very soon.”

Stepping down the _Triple Bolan’s_ ramp outside reminded him of stepping onto the stage that was the Senate. A freight skid approached further down the crowded street.

Anakin charged out as well, enraged, and clutched at Obi-Wan’s brown jacket, “How _could you_ , Master? You _promised_ me...”

The force of his rush made Obi-Wan stumble.

He let forth his rage and shoved his apprentice back. “I promised nothing about cargoes, boy. How many times have I said you can make _no_ demands of me! Stand up straight.”

Dread and horror froze Anakin as the new ‘prop’ was brought out.

“Master, please...” He sounded close to tears.

“Arms up.” Obi-Wan’s voice was flat and harsh.

The boy’s arms clutched around his head.

Obi-Wan used a trickle of the Force to control placement and damage as he swung. He remembered well enough the whippings he endured in the prison on Zygerria _from_ Anakin,  though _he_ ate sweetmeats  with the vile queen. Kenobi thought he had accepted Anakin’s actions on that stage, but these three cracks felt like justice.

H e  _needed_ meditation, but was beginning to despair  that he would ever feel peace again.

Anakin collapsed to the sand, whimpering, as the powered skid brought the cargo  to a stop . The driver  handed the controls over with a toothy leer  and a crude comment .

Obi-Wan could feel Padmé’s shock from the ramp. “Boy, get them inside, out of the sun.”  Medical supplies were already laid out  inside for their guests . 

He looked at the clear blue sky, missing clouds already, and trying to reach calm at least  before he went in .

Then he followed them back inside  and closed the ramp, to see Padmé unhappily watching Anakin getting the shocked slaves settled in a cool er corner of the hold.  Blood was soaking through  the old tunic  shreds as he applied the bacta gel to their guests  quickly .

H e moved easily and seemed calm.

_This was unexpected._

Padmé was the one shocked and angry, glaring at the Captain.

Obi-Wan sneered a little. “He  _knows_ he can make no demands of his Master, especially in public. He still lacks discipline, but he will learn.”

“That is ugly, Captain.”

“ _This is the Rim_ , Keeper.” Obi-Wan hacked some painful coughs as he watched Padmé usher Anakin away, feeling empty and cold despite the warmth near the hatch. He started shifting the piles of supplies for Padmé and the Lars, his mind empty. 

He gazed at their guests and almost bit his tongue several times, with wanting to comfort them. All he could do was send a reminder to Anakin to order more supplies for a decent living space and food. With Padmé and the twins leaving, there should be no issues with enough water for a while.

He toyed with explicitly ordering the destruction of the controllers, but thought Anakin might feel better if he thought he was fooling his master.

They whispered to each other, and Obi-Wan forced himself to stand straighter  despite his nausea . “Bril will set up access to the Fresher.  We’ll be leaving this hell-hole before morning.”

...That was enough time for the privacy, and Obi-Wan left the cargo hold. He found them in the crowded space that should have been for crew. He saw Anakin was now in a long open vest in a muted purple, a good color shift. It showed off his whipping, a reminder he forced himself to accept and not react to. “Did you get that treated?”

Padmé was glaring as she applied the gel, but Anakin wore a grim smile. “Yes, Obi-Wan, though it’s a very thin layer.  I already ripped out the guts of their controllers.”

A real and tired smile came from Kenobi. “Excellent. I authorized getting supplies and bedding for them. We’ll get more at the next port.”

“Where are you taking them, Master?” His apprentice’s continuing calm didn’t seem right.

“I...I haven’t decided.” Obi-Wan looked up at the ceiling, brushing where his beard used to be.

“Cut the poodoo, Master. You haven’t changed _that_ much.”

Obi-Wan looked at his feet, feeling ashamed,  but trying to shore himself up .  “ Alderaan, if our retrieval goes well.”

Anakin’s sigh was long and silent. Padmé just looked at the two of them.

Rubbing his stomach, Obi-Wan waved outside. “No one out there will suspect we are..  were Jedi… or Force users at all.  We still need blasters,  too .”

“Did we hear back from my family, Desili?” Anakin’s voice was hopeful.

Padmé shook her head as if to clear it before speaking. “Not since we first landed.” She left for the cockpit.

Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to erupt, but the cabin was quiet  as he felt  like  a metal pick  was in his gut.

“They’re home. Can we move the ship there? There’s more than would fit in a speeder.” Padmé sounded a little worried.

“No problem, Angel.” He pulled Padmé to the copilot’s seat with a smile

Obi-Wan grimaced and wiped his lip as the _Bolan_ lifted. He paled, sat down heavily, and barely paid attention as they crossed over the desert. His eyes were closed and breathing quiet.

Anakin set the ship down a short distance away from the moisture farm. It looked flat and quiet, only an animal shed much above the horizon. He looked at Padmé. “What do I say to Cliegg? Will he help us, now that Mom is gone?”

“We can only ask, A-Bril. We don’t know how well they have been doing since she passed. But they did answer your message.” Padmé did not lean any closer like she once did, but she didn’t shrink away.

“Anakin, could you speak to our guests for a moment before we go? Assure them they are safe, and that you will make sure that they will be okay.”

He hurried away, with a muttered, “Yes, Master.”

Padmé’s gaze was harsh. “Was that necessary?”

Obi-Wan coughed into his hand before he spoke. “Yes, Senator. He will be a Jedi again, if I have to push him up from below.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I really want to have releases early in the week, but I had to change my sleep schedule more than DST and everything is still off. May go back.
> 
> Please let me know if I'm not clear enough. Writing is trying to record telepathy to the reader...


	7. Welcome Wagon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lars meet the twins, but some things don't change much.

_Padmé’s gaze was harsh. “Was that necessary?”_

_Obi-Wan coughed into his hand before he spoke. “Yes, Senator. He will be a Jedi again, if I have to push him up from below.”_

### \- Lars Moisture Farm

Their soon to be free guests seemed calmer when Obi-Wan reached Bril in the cargo hold.

He needed much thought and meditation before he thought he would be ready to address the many issues in his apprentice. Not that many more than his own failures, but mostly different. Power, free will and respect must be addressed, and soon.

Padmé handed Luke to Anakin, and he brightened. They left the _Bolan_ , with Obi-Wan trailing behind, watching carefully.

After surprise and introductions to Owen and Beru, came the serious happy praising of Luke and Leia and their relief at seeing Padmé and Anakin again.

When that slowed, Anakin asked, “Where’s Mr. Lars?”

Owen looked away while Beru spoke. “He never really recovered after Shmi died. We never knew if it was a wasting disease or old contamination from the mines that finished him. Doctors were useless when he lost the will to fight, after she died.”

An old ache flared up in Anakin as Padmé expressed her condolences. Leia started fussing, which diverted the grief back into baby stories, mostly from Beru’s family.

Obi-Wan watched the ebb and flow of the talk without saying much. To his surprise, Owen flared darker than Anakin. Shock and disbelief seemed to color the boy’s presence as he was told snarky stories of childcare by Beru. Padmé laughed, but didn’t dispute much, adding one about a nephew.

When the conversation slowed, Padmé met his eyes before she spoke. “As much as I wanted for family to meet Leia and Luke, that’s not the only reason we’re here. The Republic has been destroyed to make an empire, by a man who I once thought was a friend and mentor. He will be hunting for each of us, for different reasons. We will need to hide for a time and Obi-Wan believes Tatooine is the best place.”

“Now that your fool crusade has run aground, Ani’s _finally_ allowed to crawl back to his family?” Owen snarled at the Master. “He should have stayed here, where it was safe enough for any smart man. But no, you weren’t a smart man, you had to lure him away with battle and _glory_ , leaving him with nothing but even more powerful enemies!”

Obi-Wan’s anger rose, darkness swirling around him as he glared at the pitiable farmer. He _knew_ nothing of their victories or destructive losses while he sat in this sand like some lizard. He held Owen’s eyes even as the wild and thorny Force rushed in, eager to find outlet.

An internal battle raged between what _he wanted_ to do _,_ and what _he believed_ his entire life. So he held onto that energy, closing his eyes to breathe a deep pull of dry air.

Padmé spoke in her regal voice with brittle tension. “ _Master Qui-Gon Jinn_ spoke with Ani and Shmi that day. Obi-Wan was no more here than _you_ were. _I was_ , and the three of them _saved my people_. Losing a battle does _not_ make freedom a _fool_ crusade.

Surprised at her defense, Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open again, to see Owen shrunken and ire faded. Breathing was easier as the Dark dissipated a little.

Beru’s hand was on her husband’s arm when she spoke quietly. “Owen...”

Obi-Wan nearly whispered. “Pardon me, I need some air.”

With that, he gazed at the family group and then stepped outside into the desert. The moisture condensers were dotted around the compound at varying distances.

He walked out until they were out of sight, when all he saw was sand and wind worn outcroppings. A few stunted and hardy plants were tucked in among the shade of the few irregularities of the broken rocks he passed.

When he was far enough, he dropped to his knees with a shout. A wail. A lamentation for all the lives lost, for knowledge lost, and for family lost. The surety that most in the Republic _didn’t even care_ that their rights were given away to forces that would abuse them. To mourn that all the battle and sacrifices of his life, of so many lives, meant less than nothing.

The enormity was too much for one man.

Obi-Wan hadn’t felt this alone, even on the transport to Bandomeer. Sticking his fingers into the sand as pebbles and rocks began to rise and shift, he realized he was howling and could not stop. Sand joined the rocks as his grief fed into the whirlwind as it swirled higher.

His presence spun higher and higher with the twister, to where the sky thinned and air cooled to a deeper blue. Raging, spinning, rising tempest... Far above the wretchedness of Tatooine, he could almost touch something cleaner.

Flesh against flesh impact knocked into him, bouncing him into a burning skid across the sands.

“ _ **\--bi-Wan! Stop it!”**_

Anakin was caked in sand, where it clung to sweat and skin that almost looked raw.

“I’m sorry, Padawan. Are you hurt?” Obi-Wan brushed a sandy hair clump off his cheek, checking him with the Force without a thought, to shake loose the sand and start healing the injuries.

Anakin sagged into his touch with palpable relief. “Thank you, Master.”

This was almost a script for him after any incident. “Anytime, Padawan mine.”

Obi-Wan felt calm and out of time as they embraced.

Anakin pulled back from Obi-Wan and asked, “So, _which is it?_ Am I an apprentice or a Padawan?”

Even a moments’ reflection revealed the reason for that question. “I- I’m not sure. You will always be my Padawan, attachments and all. But you swore oath to become an apprentice in the Dark side, that comes with a mass of different strictures, far harsher than what the Council demanded. Treatment you must have _desired._ Those chains are what made Maul what he was and turned Dooku from an arrogant Master into Tyranus. I don’t know _how_ dislike became wrath, _when_ you stopped caring about everyday people, or _how_ you lost your empathy for children and Padmé…

“I still have _no_ idea when it happened. _I missed it._ Something so important flew by me. I was _so_ proud of you when I left to face Grievous, believing you were safer.” Obi-Wan looked up at the clear sky, trying to recapture the serenity of minutes ago in the middle of this grief and rage at Palpatine. “What do you want? I don’t think you are safe to leave with others, especially those more helpless, if some..one triggers your anger.”

Anakin looked at his clenched fists, flexing and closing them again and again, before he looked Obi-Wan in the eyes. “I don’t want to be afraid… afraid for Padmé’s safety, my children’s. Fear that enemies would hunt them, would take them… that _**I**_ would hurt them.”

“There is no guarantee than provides perfect safety, even Palpatine could be surprised. But self-control I can help you with. I will be learning too, and there are no traditions to guide us.”

Anakin half-smiled. “You just healed me from the sandstorm you called, Master. It wasn’t much, but-”

“Really? I wasn’t quite aware… Sandstorm? Really? But I still haven’t _felt_ the Light for days... too many days.”

“You didn’t feel as dark then, much less than even right now.”

Obi-Wan brushed his bare chin. “I don’t think summoning a sand storm is a very practical technique for balance anywhere but here.”

Anakin made a face. _“_ _Sand.”_

Obi-Wan felt a burning brand across his spine and his head snapped up, as a deeply bad feeling clawed into him. He saw Anakin’s head jerk up as well as they both took off racing back the way they came in long, low leaps without a word between them.

The sound of blaster shots carried further than they could see the Lars’ homestead and the Force darkened around them as they closed to survey the terrain.

Perhaps a dozen beings surrounded the living dome, and the Master demanded _**-Wait!-**_

Anakin took another step before he stopped, shaking with his need to act. But he obeyed, barely.

The Master took three breaths, before he sought out the family inside. They were frightened and angry, but there seemed to be no injuries, and they were safely inside the thick wall. Some of the attackers had been tagged by blasters.

_-Look. Everyone’s safe inside for the moment. We will check if these are Hutt agents or pirates, different options.-_

Anakin calmed and a darker satisfaction spread. _-Their speeders are to the south,_ _probably_ _hunks of junk_ _instead of eopies_ _.-_

The General decided that no _outsider_ may know about them. _-Disable them.-_

The boy’s grin could be felt in the Force as he circled away. _-Yes, Master.-_

Whatever they were, they were either sweeping an isolated farm for water and, or they were attracted by the _Bolan_ , which had only been present for a couple of hours.

He would only learn if he spoke to them.

Obi-Wan started walking toward them without a fuss.

The general in him was contemptuous at their total focus on their siege of farmers, and lack of awareness of potential threats. He walked within a mere hundred meters or so without being spotted.

The first to notice him turned to look at him and swung his blaster with a shout. At the same time, Anakin shouted his own objection and started moving again.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I was wondering why some moisture farmers attracted so much attention.” He walked casually in the gray and loose worn clothing just purchased, obi and robes gone. No blaster was strapped on, sabers concealed.

“Stupid question, you **skrogging** prig. This is _our_ water.” The leader had turned and most had turned weapons toward the Master.  The pirate’s accent sounded less Core worlds than a mix of Rimworld or Separatist, and he was not impressed with the former Jedi’s plumage. “ _Our_ ship too.”

O bi-Wan tsked as Anakin finished closing. “Water is worth more than gold here, and the Hutts are not pleased if some pirates attempt to intercept their  privilege. ..”

The brigand scoffed. “As if the Hutt cares about one farm or its water.”

Anakin raised his arm with a fierce grin, and Obi-Wan made the throw in an instant. They both lit their light sabers, grinning  with old relief  to have their sabers in hand . 

Obi-Wan was surprised that much of his agitation burnt away from the  blue  plasma, leaving only determination.

Another pirate shouted even as the shooting started. “Jedi are worth a lot _more_ than water.”

Anakin taunted. “Didn’t you hear? There are no more Jedi!”

That made Obi-Wan’s grin fade a little, and he resolved that topic for later.

This group was nothing compared to droid armies or even experienced pirates. The first handful of shots were deflected back into the attackers to their painful dismay.

They stopped firing with a few mutters. A brighter one offered, “We’ll let the farmers go, if you let us go.”

That made Anakin laugh wildly. “No. This is _Tatooine_ , and the desert takes care of its own. The sands swallow you up...”

Some growls and most charged for Anakin in a rush, shouting their desperation into the uncaring sky.

The remaining attackers shot at Obi-Wan, possibly unable to move. One, targeted the living dome, concentrating on damaging vents, and a vent started emitting an ugly blue smoke and sparks. Some spiraled up, but the darker stayed lower, clinging to ground level or flowing into another vent.

Obi-Wan marched forward, shoving another yelling brigand into the one shooting the dome. He finished them off quickly and snuck a glance at Anakin. He frowned. _-Don’t play with them, Apprentice. The dome was damaged.-_

  



	8. Disowned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost catching a breath, Obi-Wan and Anakin find clean-up a little profitable, if they work fast. Selling the spoils is its own problem.

_The remaining attackers shot at Obi-Wan, possibly unable to move. One, targeted the living dome, concentrating on damaging vents, and a vent started emitting an ugly blue smoke and sparks. Some spiraled up, but the darker stayed lower, clinging to ground level or flowing into another vent._

_Obi-Wan marched forward, shoving another yelling brigand into the one shooting the dome. He finished them off quickly and snuck a glance at Anakin. He frowned. -Don’t play with them, Apprentice. The dome was damaged.-_

  


### \- Lars Moisture Farm

  


That last of the attackers died as Anakin swore and hurried back.

Closer to the dome, Obi-Wan looked at the smoking pipe, worried about the flames spreading downward. He didn’t know what was used for fire suppression here, water or chemical baths could not exist. Removing the fuel seemed safest and he jumped up onto the dome to look at the narrow pipe.

Shouts from Anakin said that the attackers were gone.

Muffled replies came from Owen, coughing as he exited with a blaster. “… and your ship draws the rats like a juicy corpse.”

“Are Leia and Luke okay? Are they breathing well?” Anakin’s fear swept through the area like a wave.

Obi-Wan decided to slice through the smoking pipe above the dome-line and push it well away from the dome to burn out.

Beru hushed, either Anakin or the quieter babies as she carried one out. “We’re fine now. He just got the biggest eyes and got quiet before I even heard the speeders.”

“Leia got more upset and didn’t want to settle.” Padmé sounded stressed as she moved outside while coughing a little.

The stump of the pipe didn’t smoke after it cooled. Obi-Wan had a belated worry about his light saber igniting it again and watched it carefully.

Anakin’s worry was clear in the Force when he checked the babies’ health. “It’s all good, baby girl. The bad men are gone. They won’t scare you again...”

Casting out, Obi-Wan sought other dangers left behind by their attackers. He was a little startled when Owen spoke.

“I suppose you think we should thank you for our _rescue_.” Owen had climbed up on top of the dome, too. His anger was clear.

“I have never done what I do for thanks. Even less if they are not willing.” The former Jedi found he was amused this time with the younger man. “The blaster ignited something, but that piece has been removed. Will you need assistance with repairs?”

Owen chopped a hand, his voice getting louder. “No. I don’t want _anything_ from you. But Beru likes Padmé and the babies. Take your ship and go.”

“We will be back with funds after...”

“ _ **Go!**_ Take your crinking money and drop it into a sarlacc pit if it makes you feel better about the damage in your wake. We take care or our own!”

Obi-Wan counted breaths as he stared at the angry man, humor gone. His voice was very controlled as his apprentice stepped closer. “Thank you for your hospitality, then. We have supplies and resellable resources to unload. Anakin!”

He replied quickly upward. “Yes, Master?”

The Master jumped back down to the other listeners and caught Padmé’s eye. “Keep the medical droid, maybe keep it hidden so it doesn’t get stolen.”

“Or charge for it, there’s never enough medical help here,” Anakin said with annoyance as he moved to another corpse.

“Use your best judgment, this is for Leia and Luke, anyone else is a bonus in these dark times.” Obi-Wan ignored Owen’s sputtering. “Keep a list of anything we should look for in our travels.”

Anakin interrupted mentally from one of the bodies where he was amassing blasters. _-Master, they have ship’s keys.-_

That could be useful. A Senator’s ship looked more tempting, and severing the chain of ownership was a good tactic. _-We’ll switch if it’s_ _better_ _.-_

“Extra water and food is always welcome,” Beru added. “Little to steal.”

“Noted,” Obi-Wan said, converting a swipe at his missing beard to wipe sweat away. “We’ll take the bodies, you sell the speeders you don’t want. We should be back on planet in a few weeks.”

“Be careful, Obi-Wan… Anakin.” Padmé was both pleasant and strained as she glanced at the man she’d married. She covered a slight cringe protecting her neck.

The Master was not sure if the boy still breathed when he saw that. “May… you too, Senator, Beru, Lars.” He wanted to _say_ it, say what he had for decades, but wasn’t sure he had the right to say those words. If those words even meant the same from him now. He forced his face to remain still as he felt unsettled.

With nods to the adults, he joined Anakin in stripping the corpses of blasters and anything useful, and loading them on the speeders to take to their ship.

“We can dump them out in the desert, krayts won’t ask any questions.” Anakin sounded satisfied with that as he fixed the vehicles

“Will selling a ship catch too much attention here? Or would another port be better?”

Anakin hummed as he tested connections, his saber out of sight but blaster prominent. “We should check it first. Only the Hutts have big money, and they _won’t_ want to pay in money good anywhere else. We might not want to switch, and the _Bolan_ has better defense than it looks. Arming it might take some time, though.”

“I will speak to our guests to warn them about the trash run. Will you need help assessing their ship?” Obi-Wan sounded almost normal.

Anakin grinned. “I’ll take Artoo, faster that way.”

Returning the speeders, final goodbyes at the farm, and bandit disposal went smoothly, and they returned to the port again for fueling. A short chat with port supervisors with the keys, and no one seemed surprised the previous owners had lost their ship.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he was glad to see a recent model of freighter from Corellia. The decision was not clear to him. “I’ll send your droid and come back soon.”

Anakin opened the ramp and trotted in.

Feeling for attackers in the port area, the former Jedi moved back to the _Triple Bolan_. Nothing seemed amiss, and he gave the astromech directions to Anakin. That left him with Threepio, who was baffling the former slaves with his assistance.

They seemed less happy to see Kenobi and he frowned. “You’ve had enough food and water, correct? Bril is checking another ship we… acquired unexpectedly. Our departure should still be tonight.”

The tired woman asked quietly, “What will happen to us, master? He’s addled and can’t do much. And she won’t talk. Should we be cleaning… or something?”

Fear was crystal clear.

Threepio made a shocked noise and protested. “I will assure Mistress that I am perfectly capable of cleaning and all these routine tasks.”

Ignoring him simplified things. “No, we should be taking you to a friend after the next port to get you squared away. That bid was partly an impulse and I do not anticipate a need for your services. Our usual is things not acceptable in certain ports but there may be opportunity in our future. You are safe here.”

She looked doubtful but didn’t say more.

Obi-Wan returned to the cockpit to check status and started coughing again, nearly to the point of gagging.

“Master Kenobi- Are you well? Can I get you a drink for the dry air?” The gold droid had entered while he was preoccupied with breathing.

“Captain Nuko Zalder,” he wheezed once the irritation moved. He ignored the taste of copper. “Do not use our old names until I tell you otherwise. Ever. I speak as Anakin’s master in this as well. He is Bril Zalder. Understood?”

“Of course I understand, Sir.” Threepio waved a hand aimlessly. “If I might suggest, you should see a healer as soon as possible.”

“As soon,” Obi-Wan grimaced. “Make sure our guests are comfortable, please.”

As soon as the droid left, the Master attempted a simple meditation to little effect. His irritation with the droid and worry about his apprentice were like sandpaper that would not smooth any more. Even the thought of tea did not tempt him to move.

The tones rang for a call from Anakin. “You coming?”

“Very well.” A disconnect and he left for the other ship. The ramp lowered revealing another body and a rank miasma inside. “Any trouble?”

“Nah,” the Apprentice grinned. “He was either drunk or high. Pulling as much fresh air through as I can. This ship seems marginally better. It’s faster. The weapons systems were either stripped or total idiots tried to do some work, but it’s fixable. It’s a little smaller with less passenger space, more cargo, and no sick bay. Selling either one should be easy in any shadowport.”

The pain in his gut was more insistent, but it wasn’t hunger. The Master bolstered his shields. “Can they be piloted by one man?”

Looking off into space, Anakin mused out loud. “The _Bolan_ easier, but yeah.”

Obi-Wan looked around the grimier and smelly interior, reluctant to forsake the ship that reminded him of the Republic, his brothers, and times now gone.

Another attachment he should _not_ indulge. “Start new papers along the same line for the new ship. It won’t have any links to the Senate or Jedi. Prepare to move over the medical droid during Jump.”

The boy’s own pang echoed.

“Get supplies for yourself and Artoo before dawn. We’ll meet in the Undercity of Aargau and transfer there. They played both sides, so the Emperor will have other targets than his allies.”

Anakin was doubtful. “ _He_ sent me after the Separatist Council on Mustafar, to ‘end the war.’ They weren’t a real threat.”

“The IBC remained neutral though thousands of years. This wasn’t their _first_ war. They may have contemporary records of the last Sith era, that could be useful to examine later. But rumor has it that Hutts are influential in their Undercity, so we won’t be too notable if we are careful.” He ignored the muttering at that.

“What should I put the name as, Master?”

He stilled the cough that tried to start. “Whatever you want, Anakin.”

He felt so tired.

“I will leave for the Zug system in an hour or two, and meet you there in two weeks, Anakin.”

The boy turned to look at the freighter with eagerness, which made Obi-Wan smile briefly. “Be careful, Anakin Skywalker. May the Force be with you.”

It felt final.

He wasn’t even listening.

As ever.

Obi-Wan returned to the _Triple Bolan_ , feeling a deep calm that had little to do with his still living anger and pain. They were not important. He wasn’t sure what was.

He needed to make preparations… just in case. Recordings for their guests, deeding them the ship if he passed into the Force before Alderaan

_Oh, to see Master again…_

If Obi-Wan wasn’t going to a Sith hell.

Telling them to go to Bail and ask his help for new lives. Giving Threepio contingency plans, as well. He honestly could not think of anyone he wanted to speak with, not now after his worst failure. Anyone else who might think of him kindly and still lived.

Obi-Wan’s eyes ached as much as his gut and he no longer looked at the phlegm he coughed up.

He checked and his wards were asleep and dawn was not far away. No message came from Anakin.

Not that he expected any.

_He_ had a ship. He had his light saber. He even had his favorite droid. He only had to seize that freedom.

Obi-Wan didn’t think he would ever see Anakin again. _Why would he?_ He had to _hope_ the boy would not run off to the Sith again.

He blinked too often as he lifted off and set course for the Core, Aargau had its own forces and even investigative boards for war crimes. Perhaps he would work his way in there, serve some purpose even without his brothers.

After the other boot fell.

The stars blurred before Jump, in the cold cockpit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, arranging the holiday chocolate can be distracting. Also sorry for the holiday angst, but Obi-Wan's abandonment issues are more subtle.


	9. Momentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his own, with no Order or backup, Obi-Wan has to retrench to face the new reality of empire. Denial is strong in this one...

  


_He blinked too often as he lifted off and set course for the Core, Aargau had its own forces and even investigative boards for war crimes. Perhaps he would work his way in there, serve some purpose even without his brothers._

_After the other boot fell._

_The stars blurred before Jump, in the cold cockpit._

### \- In Jump for A argau

Obi-Wan floated in his own black abyss, Jump light streaks dull and meaningless as they flowed past the _Triple Bolan_. He did not know how long he just… stopped, but nothing felt real beyond the hull.

This wasn’t meditation,

it was abyssal.

But he did not care.

Allowing this grief and despair to swallow him was unbecoming of a Jedi and had never been approved. But he an ever increasing difficulty in maintaining his old mask.

His gut stabbed at him with a spasm and his concentration shredded until he finished coughing.

Desperate for serenity, Obi-Wan dropped away from surface awareness, shoving every darker, painful thought or emotion that sprang up, back out of his conscious thoughts. Fear and anger were the hardest to subdue, with grief close behind.

He found no peace inside, only empty darkness over and over and no assurance from the Force. A vein of a starker fear slid through and brought him him to a halt. The more he reached out to pull calm and quiet to him, the more unbalanced and more desperate the hollow his center became.

No other _presence_ _s,_ single or as a group, could be felt, no matter how far he reached. He hadn’t felt this alone before, not even trapped in the mine as a youngling, Force blocked away from him.

He’d felt serenity briefly on Tatooine, so it wasn’t impossible. Calming panic again, he set his mental eye to consider the cosmos: stars, planets, all so cold and remote and _big_ now. Now they seemed lifeless and dimmed, as remote and detached as a tactics display.

_Chaos, rudderless, adrift… lost._

That was all he drew from the Force. _As if_ _ **that**_ _was any help._ His lips twisted in a bitter smile through his growing anger.

Obi-Wan forced himself to sit up and get to work. He wanted to sleep Jump away, this wasn’t a mission. He had no guidance or mission support, only a mess of goals and rapidly outdating intelligence. Stopping on Aargau would allow him to gather news that streamed in and out with finance and credit. He could use a second cover identity with a skill in fraud and cooked financials. The Council account, and selling the ship had priority, though.

A faint food smell reached him as he created simulated career points and unverifiable referents due to the war.

“Where’s Bril, Master?”

Obi-Wan looked at the doorway where the older female had a large mug that steamed. He blinked for a moment, startled and uncomfortable with her words. “He’s piloting the other ship to our destination....And please do not call me Master. _Ever._ ”

“Bril called you Master. What are we to call you?” Her fear evoked self disgust.

“Zalder. Captain Zalder you want.” He sighed. “Bril and I have always... I have watched him grow since he was nine standard when my own.. father was murdered. I worry for him, but he is a talented mechanic and pilot in his own right.”

The woman hummed. “I’m Marway, Captain. Here.”

He knew his eyes got big at that. “I don’t want servants, but thank you.”

“Captain? Is there any warmer clothing? Thepie’s feeling the cold.”

More embarrassment rose, as Jedi or Senator clothing would draw the wrong attention. “I am sorry, neither of us have much clothing, but I will check the inventory.”

Setting the unwanted soup aside, the ship’s inventory listed only a few misplaced items listed individually.

His guests looked at discarded holos, silly dramas of Coruscant from before the war that made him smile. “Not even the previous owners wanted these holos anymore.

The three of them huddled under blankets, looking much more cleaned up. Marway looked around his age with hair a dulled yellow-white. A young female appeared younger than his apprentice, with remnants of beauty, but felt fragile and broken in the Force. The older Stasm showed clear evidence of hard labor and old rage as well as recent and healing injuries.

Before Obi-Wan could speak, his aches peaked again when he tasted the soup on his breath. “Did Bril tell of your destination?”

They shook their heads, apprehension growing.

“I have no need of your services. After a layover at our destination, Our next port will be on Alderaan, where your will find a better future than any Hutt influenced world.”

Stasm scoffed. “What’s this _**generosity**_ for _?_ No one buys broken slaves and lets them laze around without a reason.”

Obi-Wan put up a hand. “Threepio. Get any clothing from compartments 46-9K and 12K for our guests to look over.”

“I know you are unlikely to take a humble protocol droid’s objection, Master Zalder, but there are usable pieces in...” The droid’s voice combined outrage and officious.

“ _ **No**_ _ **.**_ _They will not need th_ _at_ _clothing_ _._ _”_ Obi-Wan paused and then resumed after the offended droid left. “I will be doing business on Tatooine now that our supply fleets have been taken and war ended for my business partners. My reputation as a Captain has not reached _Hutt space_.”

The other man sneered. “Don’t want to look _soft_.”

“Exactly. Take care of yourselves, stay out of sight in the next port. The Hutts do business here and they would have little kindness to slaves. I will be preoccupied through Jump, ask Threepio first with any problems. Do you have any questions?”

Obi-Wan studied them as they looked over the clothing. He’d gotten scanty data about them, not much more than their names, ages, gender, and ‘valued’ skills. Young Thepie was still suffering the affects of trauma and her presence barely connected with the outside world. Marway had moist eyes and guarded hope, and Stasm scoffed, full of doubt. Their pains were small cracks in the Force compared to his own chasm, and he could not do anything more for them as bleeding as he was. This guilt was easier to push aside compared to the other hurricane winds tearing at him.

Returning to the cockpit, Obi-Wan closed the hatch and opened his awareness to the blue streaks of Jump that he’d spent so much of his life in. With another attempt to meditate, his thoughts would not leave one sad little fact. His time in Jump was more days and weeks than his time in the Temple over the last few years.

He finally shoved that away, before it triggered anger and loss.

Among these streaks of light, he might be a little closer to the Cosmic Force. Jump connected all the important places in his life: Coruscant, Naboo, Mandalor, Tatooine, Stewjon, and even Mustafar. Here the demands and expectations of his responsibilities and attachments were much thinner and easier to control. No one here was a blade poised over his heart, old before its time, mangled and barely stitched among the wreckage.

Hours passed unnoticed until he could breathe a little easier, feeling his connection as a simmer instead of a storm.

His giddiness at that was embarrassing.

_This must be why the boy loved piloting so much…_

That thought felt like a burning claw slashing into him and Obi-Wan coughed from pain and warnings of more.

Captain Zalder rose stiffly from the deck and checked on the status of his ship. Ship, fine. Guests, asleep. The mug Marway left early in the day was long cold and sniffing it made his stomach lurch. He set it aside and sat back in the pilot’s seat.

So many memories of missions and faces made at their poor food. Arguments and banter in ship after ship, attachments now torn loose and flapping in the wind. The black grief blew through his shields against it, unable to pretend that he wasn’t just tottering along, going through the motions of a Master and sometimes rebellious Council member. Every day he lost more of what gave his life meaning.

There wasn’t much else to lose.

Today... yesterday he lost his Padawan. He once thought Anakin would be fighting at his side when he died. Or he would have to watch him die first, like too many Masters in the futile war. He never thought that he would die alone as a fugitive.

But far, far worse was the deadly fight, consuming both of them in hatred and Darkness.

He survived that, but nothing remained of their Team. He could not think of one reason why they would meet again. Anakin had a family, he had a ship, he felt no responsibility or attachment for the Republic or Jedi.

Least of all, for him.

That was clear.

Obi-Wan grieved everything that fell, grieved at the uselessness of his life.

He finally left the cockpit for the ‘fresher, unwilling to check the time elapsed. Every day after that, he tried to calm his spirit. Some days he made progress in calming his spirit and touching the Light, others he fell back into grief and anger.

One day in a rage, he staggered to the hold and demolished loose objects, shattering what he did not crush. He was left on his knees, shaking, damp with tears and sweat, and sore when he came to himself. Then he swept the debris into a bin for sorting for reuse of disposal, relieved he had gotten out of the cockpit.

At last the two weeks had passed, and the _Triple Bolan_ left Jump a leisurely flight out from the Zug primary. He was in no hurry and wanted the extra time to watch for now imperial forces before he got close. But no sign of recent battle or ships of the line were evident out-system as he passed one of the gas giants and asteroid belt of beloved coins of the Bank of Aargau.

The call sign of a Venator class ship, still named the _Regent_ , was in orbit. Last he knew, it was under the command of another Jedi Master. It wasn’t undergoing repairs of recent battle or interfering with other ships.

At least not obviously.

“ _ **Unidentified ship. Prepare to be boarded and searched for criminals and traitors, by order of Chancellor and Emperor Palpatine.”**_

Rage exploding, his voice roughened. “What the kriff do _you_ want, anyway?  This is Captain Zalder of the _Triple Bolan_. I’m just here to do some business, like every other sorry ass who wasn’t Core-swaddled. Gotta sell while the littl e s **culag** are still panicking and prices are high.”

“ _ **Not our problem, Captain Zalder. Don’t resist and it won’t take long. Shut down your drive and stand by.”**_

Another curse as he closed the channel and reviewed anything incriminating on board. His light saber and maybe Threepio. Seemed manageable.

Obi-Wan felt the jolt as the tractor grabbed and held the _Bolan_ as he rushed to the engineering space. With an internal pang, he disassembled his saber and left the pieces in different bins, keeping only the crystal on his person.

_He wasn’t ready to give it up._

A larger jolt announced their arrival on the _Regent_ , and he consciously slouched by the hatch letting his anger boil and face settle into a sneer.

Troopers and an unfamiliar security officer in gray stormed up the ramp, and Zalder rolled his eyes even if he didn’t move. His anger lashed around him, but he kept his shields tight.

“Zalder? I’m Lieutenant Charump. These troopers will be searching your vessel. Do you have anything to report? Contraband? Fugitives?” The young man clutched a padd and seemed both nervous and bored as the silent clones passed into the interior.

“Nothing any bucket heads would get excited by. I have a few guests but I’m meeting my son in port. Looking for cargo.”

Charump scanned the nearly empty hold with a scoff. “Not much profit.”

“Tatooine.”

That brought enlightenment and he read from his padd. “Small cargo indeed. You better have buyers for the fees to cover your ‘passengers,’ Captain.”

Zalder smirked. “They’re worth more if I can say _this_ is their origin. Not worth much now.”

The shiny lieutenant grinned back. “I might know someone, if I can get it off the tip of my tongue.”

“Maybe this will help it stick...” Obi-Wan pulled the credits from one pocket, hoping they still had value. He ended up counting most of that packet for the bribe, being very careful not to influence the soldier.

The clones returned, disgusted in the Force, and reported only three human slaves in the inventory and cabins.

They could not have been in any unit he’d worked with. His appearance changes would not have been enough for the 212th or 501st to not know him. After some more insincere words, Obi-Wan and his ship were released to finish going planet-side to port.

He set the course, putting on the sarcastic Captain mask, to put in at an open berth at a leisurely pace. Maneuvering to land at the lower reaches of the pyramid structured city would take longer than he liked. He was never as fond of close piloting, even if the Force guided him well.

Deposit for port fees was more than what the bribe had been, but there was no reaction to a deadhead cargo vessel with three slaves aboard. The port of origin caused no comment. In fact within minutes of registration and a first trawl for cargo, he received an anonymous query for purchase of his cargo. The official was very efficient in passing the availability.

His lip curled without his notice as he filed it as negative. This was _supposed_ to be a long time member of the Republic, where slavery was banned. A wrong he could do even less about now.

The Captain went back to the cabin the slaves had chosen, as Threepio tried to serve a meal. “We’ve docked. Bril should meet us within a week. I have business in port, so I can meet a merchant who owes me. Don’t exit the ship.”

“Or else what?” Stasm asked, his voice flat with challenge.

Obi-Wan glared, already tired of the cough that tried to escape. “I may not be able to retrieve you if someone decides to steal what they cannot buy. Threepio, let me know if they need anything until Bril returns.”

“Additional food and clothing are needed, Captain.” The droid seemed almost listless.

That made Obi-Wan remember the days when the droid was only a small boy’s project. “I’ll set up a ship’s sub-account for clothing, you can help them with that. Maybe our guests would like to learn a language to fill their time.”

The droid straightened. “If course, Captain. It would be a pleasure.”

After checking the alarms and arranging for fuel, Obi-Wan examined the interior for trackers. There were two. One had audio in the cockpit. He shorted the recording medium so it dumped everything older than a few minutes, overwriting the storage space and wearing it out quickly. The other was better hidden, only an ID on a minor GAR frequency he’d used a dozen times on different missions. That he left alone, for now. Then checking the exterior revealed no damages. A quick comm of his estimated return, and he moved away from the port and further into the city.

Listening with all his senses he moved through the crowd, seeking for danger, rumors, and the mood of the people he passed. Many were unsettled with smothered fears, but no outright panic. Rumors of battles on the Wookie homeworld continued a pattern that he hadn’t quite absorbed: worlds with warrior traditions like Mandalor and now Kashyyyk were broken and the Vod’e were co-opted. Building any military opposition would take years if not decades.

He moved up levels and then sought a secure branch of the bank. Convincing the banking droids that he had the right to demand high security access to certain accounts took longer. Seemed he _should_ have scheduled the access weeks ahead, as it was not his usual interface or location…

Pity his foresight was never that specific or far.

After hours of pacing and allowing irritation and anger to show, he was granted access to a more sophisticated droid. He did not feel any danger or a trap on the droid before he’d finished with the first set of codes. Finally the droid was convinced he had rightful access, and he got a look at the Order’s accounts. He sat back, surprised at how many and how flush they were. “Forgive my surprise, TL-3R, but I had expected these accounts to be raided, at least to some degree.”

The finance droid had a calming voice and manner, aided by some subsonics. “These reversals have happened before to that guild, and it has never been permanent in earlier millennia. Our account records reach into ancient times, and the account holders have always been civil. A few accounts were sacrificed, but the bulk have been concealed as earlier Masters requested. Given these reverses, their contingency policies will have shifted into conservation mode. The Senate and planetary deposits have of course ceased, but lesser incomes as from patents should still be deposited. Spending has dropped to a trickle so the bulk should remain. The Trustees suggest the clients use smaller accounts and refrain from large purchases as those are tracked.”

Obi-Wan felt no trap in its words or intentions, and this unexpected resource gave him a little hope. At least hope for the future of the Order. He sat for a moment to think. “Please set up three subsidiary accounts, on similar secrecy, to receive minuscule portions of deposits, a larger share for a ship. Keep the existing accounts in the conservation mode. Set one of the new, equal smaller accounts in my name.”

“Captain Zalder. And the other?” Its voice was still calm.

Obi-Wan let himself sigh. “I don’t know if my son, Bril, has survived this unrest. Mark him for the second for now.”

“Very well, Sir. Do you have any further instructions?”

Contingency upon contingency. “If you have not heard from myself, my son, or a known Jedi master in twenty-five standard years and the current empire remains, custody of the accounts is turned over to the first Jedi Master to make contact. To be used to make the galaxy better and serve the Light.”

These accounts were still risky, but they might play into a new campaign against the Sith. Obi-Wan used a ‘discreet’ exit from this section of the banking complex, considering the irony of the latest to aid the Order.

Returning to the _Bolan_ was not like to the Temple, but it was more of a comfort than it rationally should have been. He checked the inbound ships for Fleet names, not sure how quickly ships would be renamed.

He felt a pang, some tiny part of him hoping Bril arrived while he was gone, and he coughed up some phlegm that tasted like fuel and copper. The ship and his guests seemed untroubled.

“Captain. Food’s done.” Stasm said from the hatchway, well out of reach. He awkwardly wore new clothing in bright oranges and browns.

Obi-Wan smiled as he entered and closed the ship. “Thank you, Stasm. Our business is mostly done, we will await Bril.”

“And look for cargo, Master Zalder?” The man asked in a painfully blank voice.

“Among other things. I do not know what Bril will bring and I don’t want to contract until I know.” Obi-Wan frowned. “Captain Zalder.”

Obi-Wan didn’t sleep much over the next days and wasn’t hungry either. The cargo hold was just large enough for some katas while the others slept, but most of his time was centered on tracking the news of the Empire. The title Chancellor was disappearing and old scandals revived to create and fan hatred of the Jedi. The anger at how quickly thousands of years of service was forgotten to embrace empire.

Only a single Jedi was killed, but there wasn’t enough detail to identify which, outside of the contempt for being non-human. Many worlds kowtowed to the emperor, but he did not know which was in truth. A million of the Clones were sent to reinforce the conquest of Kashyyyk, others were demolishing the Separatist homeworlds. What remained of the Senate was making fierce statements against the neutral worlds, so their fence-sitting was coming due. He would have not liked to witness Satine in that place if she had lived.

The third day he began establishing a refugee from Serrano as a forensic accountant, Clikha Bicehaym, looking for certifications and work. Old missions provided authentic sounding bragging. He set his home as Theed, but a wanderer’s life required fresh skill verifications. The testing was a challenge, and that distracted him from the hours passing. A year of intermittent weaving and it would be a more solid identity than Zalder for some tasks. He ordered a clothing suitable for Captain Zalder and Learned Bicehaym, in more colors and tough or fine materials. A foray into the market to meet with a new acquaintance in the indigo and rose costume of the financial bounty hunter Bicehaym might have owed as much to Hondo as his own acting abilities. 

I t was one of the few times he smiled.

Similar expeditions as the Captain made a few contacts for cargo and he started making preliminary deals after the second week.

He hadn’t slept in days, waiting in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one fought terribly, I'm sorry for the delay.


	10. Bursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The costs of negligent self-care come due for Obi-Wan.

_Similar expeditions as the Captain made a few contacts for cargo and he started making preliminary deals after the second week._

_He hadn’t slept in days, waiting in silence._

### \- Aargau’s lower shipyard

Another shift had ended, and Obi-Wan fell into a fitful doze. Waking without an appetite, he gnawed in half of a ration bar until he felt bloated. Stasm especially grew restless as they remained in port over the twelve day mark, but paying for another week’s docking fee consumed another large portion of the mixed funds he’d left Tatooine with.

Zalder had not touched the new accounts, keeping them to himself.

Nor had the Captain displayed anything but a wearied worry about his missing son in port. Garnering pity in a very few. Projecting that fear was no task, as Zalder’s energy had dropped to a trickle as news of unrest about the Empire’s power grab shrank daily. 

He wasn’t sure if he could believe the news of Mandalor’s pacification as the public reports rapidly lost any balance to become shills for the Emperor. About all he could muster through his inertia was a tired concern for a few he still remembered fondly. Still, he scanned the goods offered up for trade, few trusted the reliability of unvouched and probable Separatists for cargo transport.

None thought he was a Republic remnant

As he slept during another afternoon, Obi-Wan felt a danger in the Force, waking him as it approached the city. Drawing his own signature in closer, the Force was murky about it.

“Captain Zalder, Bril here. Sorry, I’m late...” 

_ Obi-Wan could breathe again. _

Obi-Wan coughed and opened a channel even if it was hard to catch his breath. “Zalder here. Berth reserved, sending location.” He settled back into a doze as the other ship landed.

The bone-deep familiar presence boarded the  _ Bolan _ , and all Obi-Wan’s sleepless nights crashed onto him and he simply stood and waited.

“Master, you’ll never guess what I...” Anakin nearly shouted as he charged into the cockpit to embrace Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s wince turned into coughing up blood. 

Frightened, the apprentice caught him as his knees buckled. “Master! Force, Master, what have you...”

Failing to lift his hand, Obi-Wan felt so happy to see the pure blue clear in his Padawan’s eyes as his eyes closed in pain.

* * *

Opening his eyelids again was difficult and he smelled bacta, an old familiar friend.

“Master?” 

His hand was gripped tig htly ~~ . ~~

Anakin’s voice was a litt le forced. “Why do you do that to yourself? You nearly died from something stupid.”

“Really? I am past my time. My family has passed into the Force. You are brighter again and have your own family. ...I wonder if darksiders pass into the Force properly?” _Not caring seemed so much simpler. He missed his own master._

“Don’t you think like that, Master!” The boy shook him by his shoulders.

“Do not agitate patient during recovery, master.” The medical droid scolded.

Obi-Wan looked at the droid. “Recovery?”

“Patient had an untreated perforated ulcer of unknown duration and nearly died.”

 _Oh._ He’d thought that was a fit reaction in response to his Fall and following actions. “What is the prognosis?”

“Patient has had sufficient treatment, though excess fluids and rebuilding strength and stamina will require time. Clinical followup is suggested.”

_So he wasn’t going to die for his sins. That seemed anticlimactic._

“You never answered my question, Master.” Anakin was sounding petulant once more.

Taking a deeper breath after his treatments seemed a little shaky. “I did not know I was actually ill. I thought I was displaying stress symptoms from my Fall. I do not approve of my own actions even if they were necessary, and that sometimes expresses physically if I do not release my feelings and meditate.”

“Your actions didn’t seem to bother you as Hardeen… Hurting us all was just another mission for the _Council_.”

Obi-Wan tried to shove his feelings away, _tried._ “No, it was not easy. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. In hindsight, harming our relationship to save your friend was very counterproductive.”

Anakin made a face and looked away. “There should have been another way!”

“We… I did not see any alternatives at the time. Though Dooku’s auditions for the bounty hunter group were interesting. I believe you would have enjoyed those challenges.” He was getting tired of talking, a clear sign he was not well.

“Yeah, you should rest.”

That made Obi-Wan look at his apprentice.

Anakin smirked. “Your shields are shot to hell, Obi-Wan. Emotions dribbling out all over. You _don’t_ hate me...”

“I’ve never hated you, Anakin. I worried about you, I’d trusted you, I was proud of you, I wanted to be a good example for you, I was exasperated with you, I wanted to protect you. I grieved for your losses, and I grieved so deeply when you Fell. I liked working with you to make a difference in the Republic, I cherished your determination to help that extra person- to be attached to so many that fed your heroism...”

Smile softer, Anakin interrupted. “Where do you think I learned it from? You deny your attachments but you still became a top pilot to save more lives. You _do_ love me, not ‘loved,’ like you said.”

Obi-Wan looked down, feeling his face warm. “You would not have believed me right then.”

“No.” The younger man swallowed. “I was sure you didn’t _feel_ anything. That you would betray me to the Grandmasters and allow Padmé to be harmed. You hid it very well.”

 _Not really. There had been so many censures from the Council for attachment._ “What did you find before you came here? You were pleased when you arrived.”

Anakin’s face brightened. “I stopped at a sleazy starbase to check the markets and met someone in a bar. Not that I was happy it was in a bar. There are a lot more bounty hunters and smugglers visible in every Cantina like they’d been breeding out of sight. I have to wonder where they were all hiding during the war...”

“Anakin. Who did you meet?” _And would they reveal them for the Empire’s bounties for any Jedi?_

His apprentice’s grin grew more sly, but his eyes were merry. “Found some extra crew. They faked their own deaths and almost came along before you collapsed into my arms.”

“ _Who!?”_

“Ahsoka and Rex. I think they were planning to take up as bounty hunters.”

Obi-Wan would not resist the smile at the thought of seeing them again. “I’d been concerned.” A darker thought darted through his mind. “Do they… does _she_ know?” _About their Falls?_ The Master’s mood plummeted.

Anakin felt his own storm gathering. “Not by my words, but I’d Force-choked someone to protect her before she left...”

That lay heavily on Obi-Wan, as yet another destructive secret. The Master fumbled at calming before he started rebuilding shields. The primary mission of protecting the twins and their mother had priority over old and newer mistakes.

 _-Agreed, Master.-_ Though the boy did not feel happy about it.

He did not feel particularly able yet. Their guests to be freed seemed wary after the excitement of the Captain’s illness but they helped pack up anything they wanted to keep. Bril packed up Nuko to move him to their other ship.

Seeing the freighter, Obi-Wan was actually relieved. “What did you decide to name it?”

“ _Bynas Solstice._ Nothing seems to have ever happened there.”

Obi-Wan thought about it while Anakin nearly supported his weight as they approached the hatch. An allusion to the cycles of light and dark, but he had no warning from the Force this time. As the ramp lowered and he struggled with watching each step, his fear and shame exploded with all the reminders of his darker acts.

Inside were two figures in armor with helmets off and the ramp closed before anyone spoke.

Ahsoka was the first to speak. “Master?”

Looking up to meet her eyes, he saw her wince. “Not exactly. Some battles had no winners.”

Rex nudged her arm with an old pragmatism. “Where Skywalker goes, Kenobi is sure to follow.”

Anakin declared, “He saved Padmé. That’s what’s important.”

The former Padawan swallowed. She still felt of muted light. “It just doesn’t feel right… Obi-Wan.”

Losing her respect hurt nearly more than Yoda’s, and Obi-Wan sagged more against Anakin.

“We got one stop before we go… home.” Anakin’s voice was partly bitter. “Once we sell the _Bolan_ we’ll have more for the _Bynas S._ He needs to kriffin’ rest  after his illness.”

Obi-Wan wanted to object, but he was strapped to a bench  before exhaustion hit. Focus failed him and he slept.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized a slightly Twilight Zone moment when I was finally getting past the block for this chapter. I wrote the previous chapter for him to develop an ulcer, to peak this chapter. Earlier this month a close family member had emergency surgery for peptic ulcer, without any history. Life imitating Force-art gets freaky, huh? minor edits
> 
> Comments always treasured, so spread them for all the stories you follow... thanks!


	11. Another Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was the darkside apprentice up to when he gets away?

This felt almost like a solo mission to Anakin, but it only took a swing of his vest over recently healed and oversensitive skin to remind him that _this_ undercover mission counted the most. He really was on his own without backup of any kind.

After several star ports, he didn’t know what he was looking for, outside of getting a feel for the ship and what to upgrade. The holonet kept listing Jedi crimes and showing executions. As much as he hated the Council, the listed crimes were poodoo. 

Obi-Wan had the highest bounty on him. Anakin knew Sidious hated him, the number was too big. There was no way that bastard would allow any assassin of a _master_ of the Force to enjoy his or her gains. Would not want any to turn tables on the Sith. When the Fallen Jedi did a little checking, it looked like most recent kills were solo Padawans and winced on seeing them because they looked more like lost children than any kind of threat.

Windu was a confirmed kill and had been hung up as a hand-less corpse for a crowd to see. Others away from the Core were confirmed, with a pile of Vod bodies for their biers. Anakin didn’t want to think about Rex and Cody attacking his family, but he already _knew_ Vod had attacked Obi-Wan, who’d gotten on so well with his men.

But Obi-Wan told him no details.

The Vod’e were dying by the legion, wasted. The former General could tell that much from the images of Wookies and Mandalore. He worried, but could do nothing for them now.

With Padmé and my little angels more or less safe, the young man hesitated, unsure what to do now. He could go off with Artoo and this ship and make a decent living in the Rim, far enough from the Core to avoid too much trouble. 

But Palpatine once promised that places like Tatooine would eventually be ruled by the law. He’d implied Republic anti-slavery laws in what seemed the truth… then. He was an emperor now, and the Hutts had slaves under the law. _Nothing_ much would change if an empire came to the sand pit, but _his_ children hid in the shadows.

A week passed before Anakin realized that his name was completely missing from the bounty lists of Jedi. General Vader mentioned only once about the Temple. Ahsoka was a listed as a casualty on Mandalore, even if her bounty wasn’t collected.

That wasn’t _fair_ , she wasn’t even a Jedi anymore.

She was _supposed_ to be safe from traitor lists.

Traitor lists hadn’t stopped with the Order. There were rumors about traitor Senators speaking out about Republic laws, and this one icy female Senator was brought in by bounty hunters and executed live on the Holonet. That easily could have been Padmé or Obi-Wan’s Duchess if she wasn’t already dead.

Anakin could hurry back and try to convince Padmé to get away from his more hunted Master. She saw him whipped, and would not take that much convincing.

But did she believe that _he_ was safe?

He had never even threatened younglings or Padmé.

That wasn’t _supposed_ to ever happen. He yanked at his hair in frustration, willing do anything to keep her, keep them safe. He hated that he’d become one of those threats. Joining Palpatine risked all he cared for far more than becoming Obi-Wan’s slave.

_ Anakin Skywalker was the price for their freedom. _

He hated that his own name didn’t make him feel free anymore. _Was this what_ _his_ _mom thought about_ _his leaving_ _?_ _When she sent_ _him_ _to be trained by such_ _remote_ _beings?_ That silken chain of their welfare was worse than any exploding chip.

The once-Jedi turned his unhurried flight path toward Aargau to meet his Master where his chains would tighten again after the current seedy Cantina. He didn’t want to. 

Not after he whipped Anakin. Anakin could feel he enjoyed doing it too, remembering that kriffin’ mission where Kenobi had been the one repeatably beaten. His eyes were not their wintry blue when he did it, but lit with a shining amber _for hours_ _._

Drinking more of the cheap whiskey, Anakin wondered how long Obi-Wan’d been walking the edge of Falling, too. He knew he’d gone too close with the Tuskans, but his Master always seemed so controlled and Light despite Dooku’s ploys.

It was all so fast, fighting him, expecting to make him lose a limb like Windu and… Anakin didn’t know what would be next at the end of the fight, aside from his rage it seemed a little like sparring. But Kenobi went from the angry irritation of his usual dislike of fighting Darksiders to an incandescent Dark rage that knocked _**him**_ back. They’d been pretty evenly matched despite the Dark’s eagerness, but the Force still responded to Obi-Wan’s skill like some tame rancor.

Sidious had that control too, he fought off Windu and Yoda.

It made Anakin feel like a child in an adult game.

Or just a pawn.

_ He did not like it. _

Either way, he was a pawn for other’s plans. The only thing that made this slavery a tiny bit endurable was that Obi-Wan saved Padmé, and Shiv provoked Vader’s anger at _his own_ _family_ with his insinuations.

He needed to learn more before he could break free of both. The chains were only looser now.

The rotgut didn’t taste good, but that didn’t matter to the former Jedi. It dulled his trapped feelings a little, but not enough to let his shields lapse when someone at the bar was blasted by some thug and the corpse was kicked aside. The death didn’t burn the same way as for vod.

A couple of Mandos strode in and scanned the crowd as a droid started to drag the body away. The bounty hunters swaggered to a dimly lit booth in the back, and the taller one evicted a squatter. A metal rake skittered along my back, but I knew little of what the Force meant.

Anakin didn’t watch them with his eyes, but everything felt off in the Force... empty. 

A few minutes later and the server came over and pointed with her thumb. “They got a bizness proposition for ya.”

Short of some master, he wasn’t worried about any danger, triggering traps was sometimes a highlight of Anakin’s week. Finishing the drink and neutralizing the buzz, he swaggered over. “Yeah?”

The shorter launched at him in what seemed for an instant to be an attack. “Master!”

“Snips!” He rapidly recreated their bond with her help this time. Anakin hadn’t noticed it was gone. “Missed you and worried!”

Rex pulled them both down to the seats. “Shouldn’t you debrief elsewhere, Sirs?”

Anakin eyes burned as he held onto his Padawan, his little sister a moment longer. “I got a ship, with Artoo on watch. Let’s get out of here.”

He tossed a few credits and soon the three crowded into his ship’s cockpit where Artoo was still running air scrubbing routines. They removed their helmets, and Ahsoka had a wrap to protect her montrails from the unfitted helmet.

Ahsoka made a face. “Doesn’t the shower work?”

“Works fine, but the thugs who used to own it may not have used it. It was even worse, a real mess with mystery organics and _junk_. I know good junk and this wasn’t it.”

“This is different from your quarters, how?” She smirked.

Anakin’s face hurt, he was smiling so hard. _This_ was what he’d been looking for. “It never smelled _that_ bad.”

“I remember when...” and she stopped, blanching. “I was so… afraid they got you, Master. Our bond burned into ash. _Everyone kept dying_ and I thought the Seppies imprisoned you or you died protecting the creche with the other masters...”

Anakin turned away, remembering too well the little blond youngling and thinking of Luke. Throat tight, he had to cough before speaking. “It was far, far worse than that. I made terrible mistakes… and I...” He stuttered to a stop like he’d been punched in the throat.

He _couldn’t_ say that he hadn’t been the fearless Hero in all this anymore, to make her hate him too.

“You _got out alive_ , General. We really thought you were dead or imprisoned.” Rex stood at rest with a slight smile.

“Padmé is away and relatively safe, and we have two babies named Luke and Leia in hiding.” His smile was forced less now.

Ahsoka had a huge grin. “You do? Sorry, Rex. I don’t think you’ll be able to collect on those bets.” Snips was wistful now.

The warning was pretty clear. “What do you mean?”

“Had a bet with Cody. I believed Fives and had the kriffing loyalty chip removed.” Rex pointed at a scar among the hair above his ear. “Everyone else turned on their Generals. Heard a rumor the 212th turned a cannon on their General at a cliff-side on Ultipau. They found his mount, chewed on by predators. Sorry, Sir.”

“Cannon? A chip?” Anakin rubbed the new scar on his shoulder, imagining an ion cannon firing at Obi-Wan, with a distant pang.

“The Chancellor gave an order and every vod got emotionless and acted more nameless than any shiny. I think only a handful of us like Wolffe believed Fives, I had hoped General Koon had escaped.”

Anakin’s eyes closed and he only realized he was swearing after a few minutes. That explained Appo and some of the other troopers in the Temple: they were fighting slave boxes.

_ And he had not even noticed. _

Skywalker didn’t just feel like being under a pile of bantha droppings, he felt like he was the bantha droppings after several trips through. 

Maybe he’d been a child in an adult game, but he would learn.

“What’s with these newer scars, Master? Did Dooku get you before he died?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re mostly itchy. It looks worse than it was as it only broke the skin and got treated minutes later. My cover is as a slave, basically an adult version of what I was at nine...”

Ahsoka looked horrified. “Is that a karking explosive?”

“No, made it myself. It’s a fake, but reads like a real one.”

Rex looked doubtful. “Don’t you need a Master for that to hold long?”

“Captain Nuko secretly took Padmé to a port far away from the karking empire, and I can bring them supplies regularly like this.”

“Is he blackmailing you, Sir?”

“Why don’t you just leave, Master?” She sounded worried for us. “You hate slavery. We can help move them to a safe place.”

Anakin didn’t have enough explanations on his own. “My _cover!_ I have my saber, a ship, and Artoo. The Captain’s selling our first ship when I meet him. One or two stops and you can meet my children. They’re _safe where they are.”_

They exchanged doubtful looks, ignoring him, so he asked them in a flat voice, “You need anything before we leave?”

Silence took seconds too long and Rex spoke first. “We were looking for work, and the Commander wanted to find survivors.”

“We are carrying everything we have, Master. I keep trying to find out about other Masters. Especially Master Yoda.”

Angry at the old troll again, Anakin concentrated on the ship’s controls and requested a flight path. “He left Polis Massa piloting a civilian ship days after the Temple. He wouldn’t tell us where he was going.”

Ahsoka’s relief was clear in the Force, and it grated on her former Master’s perceptions as they lifted. He’d been shocked when Yoda’d argued with his Master, and he was angrier at what he’d ordered the other Master to do.

Their words had been _mostly_ polite with biting meanings. They were both angry.

“Us?” Rex asked.

Anakin turned turned to look at them with a glare, trying not to grit his teeth. “The old troll argued with _my Master_ over me while my children were being born. I doubt _serene,_ _wise_ _Master_ Yoda would give me water if I was dying.”

“Master?” Ahsoka’s voice was weak and frightened as she stared at Anakin.

“I _don’t_ want to talk about it. We’re a few hours away, rest up. _My Master_ is waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delays, guys. Had the trifecta of NaNo exhaustion/holidays/lingering new year's flu and no drafting would come. A little block from Obi-Wan's spiral didn't help. The family ulcer recovery is still a challenge too.
> 
> And really, even if the Team Falls, they are still gonna wallow in the angst a bit too. Comments adored!

**Author's Note:**

> In some ways he repeats his error from TPM, but he is far more disciplined.
> 
> This story is a Star Wars fanfic, and most everything is owned by George Lucas and Disney with no infringement intended. I make no profit from this story.


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